


You Seem to Like It Well Enough

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Series: The Detective, His Doctor, His Brother and His DCI [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: - Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Angst, Ankle Cuffs, BDSM, Ball Gags, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Cock Cages, Cock Crusher, Collars, Dildos, Dom Greg Lestrade, Dom John Watson, Dom/sub, Gags, Kneeling, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Off-Screen Holmescest, Pegging, Pre-Holmescest, Restraints, Snake Bite Kits, Sounding, Spanking, Sub Mycroft Holmes, Sub Sherlock Holmes, Wrist Cuffs, crawling, headphones, holmescest, ring gags, sensory deprevation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the first fic where the two series, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/264478">The British Government and the DI</a> and <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/354065">The Detective and the Doctor</a> come together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where He Wants to Be

John rolled them over, pinning Sherlock beneath him. “Since you were so brilliant with Greg, I'm going to ignore your cheek.” He kissed his sub on the nose. “And, so long as you don't mention that little cage, you can name a reward.

“Sherlock strained up for a true kiss. “Sussex.”

“Are you safe wording?” John asked, suddenly concerned. 

“No, sir! I meant, let's go to Sussex. Mycroft and I own the manor now.”

“You and Mycroft own the manor,” John repeated.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Yes, sir. And Mycroft has outfitted a playroom.” He wriggled his eyebrows, suggestively.

“When was this?”

“Years back. Before he met Greg. He did it as soon as our parents moved north.”

“You're packing, then.” John rolled off and plodded off downstairs. “But in the morning. You are going to get 5 hours sleep first,” he called over his shoulder.

Sherlock bounded down the stairs like an excited puppy. He threw himself on the bed, waiting for John.

The doctor chuckled as he collapsed next to him and was most surprised when the detective fell asleep straight away.

In the morning Sherlock didn't even argue about performing the menial task of packing, even after getting just over 7 hours sleep. “Should I bring clothes for myself, John?” he called out. “And what about your favourite toys?”

“Leave the toy box!” John yelled as he charged down the stairs after his pet. “Little boys don't touch the big boy toys.” John looked his boy over. “And bring one good suit in addition to what you plan on wearing on the way there. That's all the clothes you should need.”

John made his way to the toy box and routed through. He picked out the personal stuff, like his collar and cuffs, then turned to look at Sherlock who was going through John's wardrobe pulling out the detective's favourite shirts. “What stuff has your brother equipped the playroom with?”

“Everything imaginable. It's far better stocked than the club. There's a Saint Andrew's cross, a suspension system, items for safe Estim, hoods, crops, whips, paddles, clamps, weights, tools for temporary piercings, ball crushers, humblers...”

“That's… wow! I get the idea.” John was frankly astonished and then he realised who they were talking about.

The doctor moved over to the younger man and stepped up behind him, he wrapped his arms around his chest and pulled him back into a tight hug.

“How about food, boy? You may be able to survive on air and occasional sunshine, but I need something more substantial.”

Sherlock leant back into John's embrace. “Anthea sees to that, sir. The manor is kept fully stocked at all times.”

As soon as they were packed Sherlock took the doctor's hand and led him to the door. He hailed a cab and carried their case inside. John thought it was rather cute how Sherlock sat as close to him as he could. If the Dom let him, his boy would no doubt kneel at his feet. As it was, Sherlock had his head rested on John's shoulder. The doctor looked at the cabbie, daring him to say anything, and pulled Sherlock's head down to his lap.

As the cab pulled up after a nearly hour long journey, John had to shake Sherlock awake.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, sir.”

John laughed. “Up you get, boy.” He ignored the cabbie's look and encouraged his boy out. Since Sherlock was still half asleep, John paid the cabbie, then guided his boy into the manor.

Sherlock was awake enough to unlock the front door and, to John's relief, they were not greeted by a butler or any kind of staff.

“You get to pick, boy. Water then more sleep or water then playtime?”

Sherlock was wide awake in seconds. John took that as the latter and held his hand out to press his shoulder down.

The detective's knees buckled and he fell to the floor.

John reached into his pocket and brought out Sherlock's collar. As he fastened it around his neck, his boy went soft and pliant.

The Dom ran his finger down Sherlock's chest until he came to the first fastened button. “Undress for me, boy,” he ordered, then stood back to watch.

Sherlock made sure to put on a show. Removing item after item of clothing. He threw them to the side and when he was finished, he knelt once more.

“Lead the way to the playroom, boy. I'm curious to see it for myself.” John gave Sherlock a playful shove between the shoulder blades.

The sub went down on all fours and, with a wiggle of his arse, began crawling down the hallway. John watched him fondly for a minute before following.

By the time he had stopped watching the wiggling Sherlock was out of sight. He found him, knelt up, outside of a door that looked like it went down into a basement.

Opening the door, John saw that, indeed, there were stairs going down, but the room below was anything but dark or dank. From what he could see, it was well appointed and exceedingly posh, but with very odd furnishings indeed. “You can walk down the stairs, boy, but kneel at the bottom.”

Sherlock nodded. He hadn't actually been in here either. Just been shown the door and told to keep out when Mycroft had first had it fitted.

He knelt as he was told at the bottom waiting for his Dom.

“How many playrooms has your brother got?”

Sherlock shrugged where he was knelt. “The suspension room, the cross room, the wet room, and the bedroom, so 4, sir. Oh, and there's also a small kitchen and loo, but they're not really for play.”

“What about completely?”

“Well, his old apartment had one. There's one at the Diogenes and then here. He's probably got more that even I don't know about.”

“And he's definitely a Dom?”

“Oh yeah.”

John gave Sherlock's arse a pop. “I want to see you on the cross. So crawl over to it. Stand against it, facing the room.” The Dom looked at the selection of ankle and wrist cuffs, selecting a deep green set and crossing over to stand in front of Sherlock.

“Not using our own, sir?”

“Oi, I make the decisions.”

Sherlock's head lowered. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

“But no, you've got your collar, I plan to use the amenities of this place.”

John fastened the cuffs around his boy’s ankles and wrists, then connected them via karabiners to the strategically placed eye hooks. He let his hand drift over Sherlock's body, paying particular attention to his chest, then dropping his hand lower to his boy's caged cock. He was tempted to let his boy free of the little device. Maybe he would. Maybe he wouldn't.

Sherlock hissed air through his teeth in anticipation. Even if he did plan to let his boy out, he wasn't going to tell him that.

“Don't get too ahead of yourself, boy.”

Sherlock's hands rattled in the cuffs slightly. “No, sir, sorry, sir.”

As John looked around, he saw an endless array of possibilities. He felt like a kid in a sweet shop. “Oh, boy, what to do with you?”

Sherlock made sure to keep his mouth shut because he could guarantee whatever he said, John would do the exact opposite.

John stepped forward and bit Sherlock's left nipple, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to definitely get his attention.

The sub looked down at his abused nipple to see it standing up, wet and ringed with the indentation of John's teeth marks. He gave a shiver.

“You liked that,” John smirked, it wasn't a question. “Nipple clamps for you, then.”

He bit his lip. As John played and teased before pinching the little buds and slipping each clamp over his nipples.

“Oh, good boy, staying silent for me…”

Sherlock's length tried to get hard in its little cage, but it couldn't. He was so very frustrated, but John's praise was heady stuff, so he didn't complain.

John glanced down at his twitching cock and smiling pushed the tip of his finger through the top of the cage. “Oh, boy? Getting excited are you?”

Slowly, Sherlock looked up and froze.

“Sir?” He whispered.

“Oi, boy, what did I say about you talking.”

If John had turned around he would have seen both Greg and Mycroft at the door, mouths wide open, but not at what they were doing, at the fact they were there in the first place.

Greg gave Mycroft a little nudge. “Doesn't change anything, boy. Kneel.” He put his hand on his boy's shoulder and pressed down.

Sherlock struggled and strained for a moment. John was watching the new arrivals with interest.

“Mycie, what are you doing-”

“Shut it, boy,” John spun and glared at him. “Do you really think your brother would be kneeling if he didn't want to be?”

Sherlock bit his lip and shook head. For once, his deductive skills had completely failed him and he was totally confused.

“That was a question, boy,” John growled, removing the clamps.

“No, sir,” Sherlock grumbled.

“Exactly. No reason for you to play up then, is there?”

“No, sir,” he repeated.

Greg stared at Sherlock even as he ran his fingers through his own boy's hair. “Sherlock is a pretty thing, isn't he, John?”

Mycroft shifted uneasily next to him. Greg crouched down as John agreed. “I'm allowed to talk to others, boy, you're not in control at the moment.”

The government official felt the urge to huff, but it would be far too undignified.

John quirked an eyebrow. “If I'm prying, just tell me to bugger off, but Sherlock said Mycroft was strictly a Dom.” His eyes took in Mycroft's form appreciatively.

“Let's just say the events yesterday lead to a change of heart.”

“Whose? Yours or his?”

“Well… his to begin with.”

John laughed outright. “And now you have a taste for this side of it too.” The next part was said with reluctance, “Should Sherlock and I go back to the flat and leave the place to you?”

“That's what our boys want,” Greg said, glancing between the brothers. “But we're the Doms, not them.”

“Quite right,” John agreed.

Greg tightened his grip in Mycroft's hair.  “How would you like to show your brother just how well you can behave?” His boy's back stiffened. “I saw John eyeing you earlier. Strip and let him get a better look.”

John turned to his own boy. “You can safe word now and we won't play with them. Or you can stay silent and we'll carry on.”

Sherlock's gaze flickered to his brother. Decision time. He saw that unnamed something that had always lurked in Mycroft's eyes. He recognised it because he knew it lurked in his own. Based on John's words to him and Greg's words to his brother, it was ok, at least at some level. How far the Doms intended to push it, he didn't know. Sherlock looked into John's eyes and nodded.

“Come on in then, Greg, as long as your pet doesn't have a problem.” John couldn't believe how normal it was talking to Greg like they owned the Holmes brothers.

“Hmm, boy.” Maybe Greg could call him pet after all. “Pet, I should have asked, before I ordered you to strip in front of your brother. If it's not a problem, move into the centre of the room and strip, otherwise safe word now.”

Mycroft turned his nose up but still moved to the middle of the room, with hesitance to begin with.

“So there was something you didn't like but you want to do it anyway.”

“You called me pet. It makes me sound like a dog.”

“And boy doesn't?”

Mycroft shook his head not really sure why it didn't.

“That's what I said!” Sherlock exclaimed.

John reached out and gave his boy's belly a slap. “Silence, pet.” He used the term deliberately and grinned at the glare he received.

“What are you going to do about it? Surely you're not going to safe word for something as petty as that?”

“No, sir,” he ground out between his teeth.

His glare shifted to Mycroft, who was looking smug right up until the moment Greg clocked him on the back of the head. “I thought I told you to strip.”

Mycroft obeyed his new Dom, but slowly. He shed all his clothes and folded them out with much deliberation. He made sure they were in a perfect pile just to be pedantic and then moved back to his knees.

John talked to Greg as if the other two men weren't there. “I was planning on teasing my boy relentlessly. Had you made plans for yours?”

“I was just going to play it by ear.” Greg considered. “Any suggestions?”

The doctor spun around on his toe, looking about the rather extensive room.

“There must be another cross around, don't you think?”

Greg glanced down at his now naked boyfriend. “Is this room equipped with another cross, boy?”

Mycroft swallowed. “There's a portable cross in the closet, sir.”

“Of course there is.” Greg grinned. “Fetch it and put it together, pet.”

Mycroft couldn't believe he hadn't lied and by the look on his little brother's face, neither had he.

The government official made his way over to the cupboard, again slowly. He began to assemble the four pieces, which when together looked identical to the one Sherlock was tied to.

“I'm not going to ask anymore, boy. I'll assume everything is ok unless you safe word.” Greg turned to John. “Would you like to help me restrain him?” He glanced at Mycroft who looked far from distressed. “You can even touch him if you like.”

John smirked. “One second.” He turned his back on the other two men and leant forward to bite Sherlock's nipple, when a broken whimper was elicited, the doctor grinned. “I am going to enjoy this.”

“Simple black, don't you think Greg?” The doctor went over and fetched a set of ankle and wrist cuffs.

“Definitely,” the DCI agreed. He took the ankle cuffs and set to work, stroking Mycroft's thighs as he knelt.

Whenever John touched the older man Sherlock grumbled and thrashed where he stood.

The doctor rolled his eyes, saying to Greg. “We can't have that, can we?”

The DCI grinned and his eyes lit up. “Ball gag? Please say I can use a ball gag on him? It would absolutely make my day.”

“John,” Sherlock whined.

John gave his pet a hard look. “Are you about to safe word, boy?”

“No, sir.”

“Then yes, Greg, go ahead and do what you want to him.”

The DCI grinned. “I was looking forward to a quiet few days with him.” He indicated his own sub. “But this is going to be so much better.”

Throughout the process of being gagged, Sherlock's cock continued to strain against the cage that held it prisoner. He felt a bit guilty about that. John was the man he loved, he shouldn't be so aroused by Greg's attention.

John leant in and whispered in his boy's ear. “It's alright. I know your heart belongs to me.”

Sherlock actually smiled just as Greg slotted the ball gag between his teeth. He buckled it roughly and attached it to a considerate hook behind his head, this kept Sherlock restrained to the extreme. John laughed at his boy's expression. “I should have done that myself.”

Greg smiled. “He looks so pretty like that, John. I think my boy should have a gag as well. Would you do the honours?”

Mycroft struggled from his own position for a moment. So much for taking it easy. For some reason, though, he didn't want to safe word. He just glared at his brother. “When will you learn to keep your mouth shut, brother mine?”

Sherlock couldn't smile around the gag, it was simply too large. Instead, he gave a miniscule shrug.

At the same time, Greg walked up to his boy and twisted one of his nipples hard.

Mycroft yelled out, glaring at Greg. The DCI couldn't resist and shrugged his apology to John. He pushed the second ball gag into his mouth. “Not nice not being given a way out, is it?”

John had wandered around behind the crosses and he poked his head between the two. “They could safe word.”

Greg laughed and pulled the gag out before he buckled it. “They could, but this one,” he rubbed Mycroft's side, “is about as stubborn as I am. Which means, he's as stubborn as they come.” The DCI addressed his sub, as he handed John the gag. “Now be a good pet and open wide for the doctor.”

“You already had your chance, why didn't you do it then?”

Greg pinched his other nipple between thumb and forefinger. “Because I want you to do it by choice, not force.”

Mycroft should have known that, he was a Dom up until a few hours ago. The answer had been textbook.

The new sub opened his mouth and let John buckle the gag in place.

Greg stepped between his pet and the doctor, placing a kiss to the corner of Mycroft's mouth. “Remember to snap if you need to safe word.” Mycroft quirked an eyebrow at him. “I know, but reminders are good.”

Mycroft's look was a clear message. You didn't safe word, neither will I.

“You have to promise me you will safe word, Myc, I'm new at this, I'm not 100% sure what I'm doing.”

Mycroft's gaze moved from one Dom to the other. This time it clearly said he is.

The doctor dropped his hand on Greg's shoulder.

“He's giving you full control. 'Lock does it sometimes.”

Greg shivered. That idea was both heady and terrifying. “Doesn't that ever scare you?”

“It bloody terrifies me and before you ask, I have been known to royally fuck up.” John looked at his boy lovingly. “And I don't know why, but Sherlock trusts me to learn from my mistakes.”

Greg stroked Mycroft's cheek. “I know why. It's because it's worth it.” He kissed Mycroft on the temple, even as he pinched his pet's nipple. “I think I'll play with these, now.”

He heard Mycroft's sigh of relief. No more control, no more worrying.

“It's amazing the way they just… stop,” John whispered. “I like the bit when we get to jump start them. Well, yours may get a jump start.” He took the two steps to the detective and wrapped his hand around the cage. “Not too sure about mine.”

Greg laughed. “Are you any good with ropes?” He fondled Mycroft's cock. “I'd like to tie this up. I think it'd look pretty, but I don't want to hurt my pet.”

John considered for a long moment. “With rope or a cage?” He spun on his toe. “This room is pretty extensive, I'm sure there's one locked away somewhere.”

Greg tilted his head on the side. “I had intended rope, but,” he glanced at the younger Holmes, “it would be nice to have a matching set.”

John's chuckle lit up his face. He glanced at Mycroft and then Sherlock, making a decision.

Sherlock had ceased thrashing seeing as all it accomplished was a higher chance of a headache. John released the gag and in turn Sherlock's head, but he held the ball between his teeth with his fingers.

“You are not going to argue. You are not going to speak a word until I give you permission. Nod if you understand me.”

The detective nodded and the doctor removed the gag completely.

“Is there another cage in this room? Yes or no?”

“Yes, sir, but how did you know I would-”

John pushed the ball back between his teeth. “Even if you haven't been here before, you would have deduced every item in here. Now you can't make up for your outburst, for which you will be punished but you can try. Where is the cage?”

Sherlock waited for John to tug free the ball once again.

“Corner cupboard, Sir, there's more than one.”

After gagging his boy again John went to the cupboard and found quite the assortment. “What do you fancy, Greg? Metal, plastic, rings, a sheath, one with a sound? You can just about have your pick of anything.”

“There's one with a sound? Can you teach me how to use that one?”

Mycroft squirmed.

John grinned. “I'd be delighted. In fact,” he turned back to the cupboard and found two identical. “I can demonstrate on my own boy.”

Greg cupped Mycroft's cheek. “I bet you're wishing you didn't stock this place quite as well.”

John set the cages down on a conveniently placed table, then went over and unlocked the one on his boy. Sherlock's cock began to fill out immediately. John tutted. “We can't have that. Greg, would you mind getting some ice from the kitchen while I clean these cages with alcohol. Can't be too careful.”

Sherlock whimpered around the gag.

“You've got to earn it, boy,” John said, running his finger up the underside of his cock. It twitched in response. “I told you that you were off punishment now, I also said this was a control mechanism, not punishment.”

Greg came back with a glass of ice cubes and he visibly winced when John pressed a few up against the sub's bollocks. Sherlock's erection wilted almost immediately. “Now for the fun part. Come close and watch.”

The detective grunted his displeasure at being used like a demonstration dummy, but otherwise made no protest. Greg couldn't blame him. He noticed Mycroft was deliberately looking in the other direction with his eyes squeezed shut. He noticed his hardening length and realised why.

The DCI walked over to his boy and leant in close. “Is it the idea of what's happening or that it's your brother?” His suspicions were confirmed when Mycroft's eyes flew open and he blushed a deep crimson. “It's okay,” the Dom soothed. “He's a pretty thing. I don't think less of you. I still love you.” He looked over at Sherlock who was watching them. “And I don't think he minds.” Mycroft's eyes shifted to John. “I'm certain he won't mind either.” The whole time he had been stroking his sub's cheek. The older sub's eyes then darted to the ice in the glass in John's hand.

“Ah, you see, Mycroft,” John started, “I can't put a sound in Sherlock whilst he's hard. So Greg can't put one in you if you're hard. Ice is the answer if you can't control yourself. You must know this.”

John set the cup of ice on the table nearest Mycroft. And gave him a pat on the cheek. “Greg, let's get back to Sherlock, before he gets excited again.” He took Sherlock's cock in hand, wiped it with an alcohol swab and placed a dab of lube at the slit. He then carefully inserted the sound, letting gravity do all the work. Above him, his boy's breathing was ragged and he broke out in sweat. Finally, it was in all the way and John slipped the cage over Sherlock's cock, fastening the sound in place.

Mycroft couldn't take his eyes from his brother. Whether it was his brother he couldn't ignore or the intriguing sounding he didn't know. He knew of it, of course he did, he'd been a Dom for years, but he had never tried it, in either position.

It was something he had intended to try. Mycroft even had several set of different types of sounds. He had just never gotten around to it. His cock was filling out in a way he could no longer even attempt to control.

Sensing it was his turn next, Greg stepped forward with the glass. 

Mycroft immediately began squirming, willing his erection to just. Go. Away. It didn't. The next thing he knew, Greg pressed the ice to his bollocks and the sub's erection was no longer a problem.

Meanwhile, John was giving Sherlock's cock a jiggle. “And that's how you do it.” He kissed the corner of his boy's mouth. “You behaved well, pet.”

Sherlock huffed at the name, but preened under the praise.

“Now it's time for me to help Greg get your brother sorted.”

The noise Sherlock let free sounded a lot like 'no'.

The doctor frowned. “Getting jealous are you, boy?”

Sherlock's brow furrowed. He did feel a bit jealous, but he felt something else too. Excitement, maybe?

John smiled at Sherlock. “It's ok, boy. I won't neglect you for long.”

Sherlock frowned as if not believing that for a minute. John ignored him, however, and passed his fellow Dom the cage.

Mycroft, from where he was hanging was watching the cage with something that looked like dread.

Following every step that John had demonstrated, Greg soon had the sound seated in his boy's cock. Mycroft's hands were balled into fists and his toes were curled. The sub wore a look of confusion as if he couldn't decide if the process had been pleasurable or not. When the cage was fitted over his cock and the sound locked in place, his confused expression changed to one of frustration.

The Doms laughed.

“Shall we leave them?” The doctor offered.

“That sounds like a great idea. We could make a plan. I'm assuming you had been aiming for a few days here?”

At John's nod Greg grinned, even as the younger Dom stepped forward and buckled the back of the gag to the cross again.

The Holmes brothers were left alone in the room. They could have avoided one another's eyes, but what would be the point?

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow in question as if to ask, “Subbing, brother dear?”

Mycroft sniffed in reply, his thoughts clear, “You seem to like it well enough.”

“But you've always looked down on subs.”

“Not true, how could I ever look down on Gregory?!”

Sherlock just rolled his eyes and looked in the other direction.

John watched the two subs from the door for a moment, he smirked at the obvious conversation between them.

“Oi! You two, behave or there'll be punishment!”

Sherlock rolled his eyes again. As if they could be anything but good!

Mycroft just huffed around the gag as the two Doms left the room and headed towards the kitchen.

“So what exactly made you change your mind?”

“Mycroft thinks he went too far with me last night. I was frustrated, yeah, but he didn't go too far. He just sort of asked me to spank him. So I got him to get the crop.”

“He actually let you?”

The DCI nodded once. “I even managed to make him pack.”

John laughed. “You know what? Somehow, I find that more amazing than what just happened.” He put on the kettle and leant against the counter.

Drawing up a chair, Greg sat in it backwards. “Being the Dom for a change was a different kind of rush. I don't want to give the other up, but this is... nice.” He grinned.

“You being a switch I could get… but Mycroft? He is always so sure of himself. I could just imagine Sherlock and me swapping. I'd hate it and so would he.”

“I think Mycroft was simply trying to apologise at first. He wanted to know what it felt like so he wouldn't 'overstep' his boundaries again. It was just as much a surprise to him as it was to me that we both enjoyed it.”

John went to make a cup of tea and then decided he didn't want it. He was incredibly hard already and they'd left the boys together, yet alone.

“So what do we do to them?”

“Do you suppose we could use clover clamps on them, then stretch a lightweight chain from Sherlock to Mycroft? Neither of them would be able to move without causing a good bit of distress to the other.”

John chuckled. “I assume you know what it feels like.”

Greg should have blushed, but he didn't. Why was this conversation not incredibly awkward? “Seeing as Mycroft has given me control I don't want to go easy on him. What else could we do at the same time?”

John pondered. “It should be something to make them writhe and wriggle. There's always the crop. We could use it on their thighs or... You just know Mycroft has a violet wand around here somewhere.”

“Have you heard of a dildo chair?”

Greg nodded. “I assume it's pretty self-explanatory.”

“Well from experience Sherlock cannot sit still on it for more than a matter of seconds.”

“Oh, I like that idea even better.” Greg bit his lip. “This is really ok with you? You don't mind that I like to look at him?”

“And I don't mind if you touch. Neither does he. I can't think of anyone he'd want us to play with other than you and Mycroft.” John clapped his hands together. “Let's go find that chair.”

Greg paused him with a hand on his arm. “I don't want either of them to know what we're doing. If they hear or see anything they'll deduce what we are up to in seconds. We're the Doms, let's make the most of that.”

John nodded. “Blindfolds and headphones, then. I think I saw some earlier.”

It didn't take long to deprive the Holmes brothers of their senses, then they went in search of the chairs and everything else they would need.

They set them up in front of the subs and then moved to untie them. Both brothers stumbled a bit, not entirely sure where they were going only aware of where they had been.

The Doms lined them up next to each of the chairs and then let them go, watching to see what the pair would do.

Sherlock turned his unseeing gaze in John's direction and he tilted his head on its side.

“Go ahead and sit, boy, but be careful about it.”

Sherlock couldn’t hear or see. Still, he instantly knew what was in store and he moved to comply.

Greg swung the chain in his hand idly.

Sherlock was the first of the two subs to feel what was in store for them. He braced himself with the dildo at his entrance, but he didn't move, he wasn't going to make this easy for John.

“Oh, pet, you don't want to disappoint me or Greg do you? And what will your brother think?” John pressed down on Sherlock's shoulders gently. “We lubed it up for you and everything.” John knew that everything he was saying could only be heard by himself and the DCI but he couldn't resist. No doubt Sherlock could deduce that John was talking to him and further knew what he was saying.

Sherlock huffed. He knew, he just knew, that John was baiting him with Mycroft.  He was most likely telling him how his brother was such a good sub. It was ridiculous. Mycroft had just discovered his desire to submit. Sherlock was infinitely more experienced. Sherlock bit the gag in frustration and sat on the dildo thinking, “So there, Mycroft.”

What he hadn't realised was Mycroft was still stood up. Despite Greg's insistent hands on his shoulders, the older man could not be moved. He wasn't concerned and clearly didn't want to safe word he was just being stubborn.

“When Sherlock tries that, I give his bollocks a good yank and a twist,” John commented helpfully.

If Mycroft had been able to hear the doctor, he would have made his decision to lower himself onto the dildo immediately, instead he just continued to be defiant.

Greg used John's advice and reached a hand forward, gripping the older man's balls in his fist.

Mycroft doubled over, instinctively bringing his hands to his bollocks protectively. He breathed a sigh of relief when Greg released him. As soon as he managed to stand up straight again, Greg's hands were at his shoulders, urging him to sit.

But once more, Mycroft refused, his smile evident from what part of the expression the others could see.

John shook his head and stepped forward. “Excuse me, Greg,” he grabbed Mycroft's wrists and pulled them behind him, attaching them together with a Carabiner. “Go for it,” he said with a nod at the sub.

There would be one difference his time, Mycroft couldn't protect himself.

Greg's grip this time was even tighter. When it became obvious his sub was going to keep holding out, he added the twist that John had suggested. Mycroft's face went red, almost purple, and he grudgingly sat.

Greg pulled the headphones off his new subs head.

“You are going to regret making me do that, boy,” he hissed in his ear.

With the ache in his bollocks, Mycroft already regretted it. He wasn't looking forward to what punishment would be coming.

Greg dangled the chain that was connected to a pair of clover clamps in front of Mycroft's face. “And this is in no way part of your punishment.”

Mycroft heard his words and heard a chain. He could quickly deduce what was about to happen, however, he heard his brother's hiss before he needed to make his own. From what he could tell Sherlock was actually behaving. Better than him. That thought alone made him blush before the clamps even got close to him. 

When the clamps bit into his tender nipples, Mycroft let out his own hiss of pain. He could feel the chain connecting the clamps being lifted and heard something snap in place. When he felt random tugs on the chain and heard another snap, he knew what had been done - he and Sherlock were tethered together.

Which meant they must have been facing each other. Oh god. What the hell had made him sign up for this? And then he realised. Gregory. For Gregory anything was worth it.

Across from him, Sherlock was doing his best not to squirm, but he was never able to stay still for long on a dildo chair. He shifted and the clamps bit into his nipples. In the chair opposite, Mycroft jerked at the sudden jolt of pain.

Mycroft had no idea his baby brother couldn't hear anything. He also had no idea his baby brother had use of his hands, not that he would.

Despite his position, he found focusing on his hearing made the need to squirm on his seat less powerful.

The problem was, Sherlock couldn't stay still, no matter how hard he tried. Wriggling his bottom whilst keeping his torso still was hopeless. Soon enough, he was letting out little whimpers and whines.

John stepped forward and pulled his own headphones off. “Not fairing too well, are you, boy?”

The detective managed to shake his head without moving the rest of him, for which Mycroft was grateful. 

Greg had found a set of small weights. “Let's up the ante, shall we, John?”

Both subs shook their heads frantically. It didn't matter. Greg added a weight to the chain that tethered the brothers together.

Each one hissed. Sherlock was drooling far more than the older Holmes, due to the simple fact that he had been the one thrashing around on the chair the most, the incessant prodding at his prostate and the sound in his caged cock wasn't helping matters.

The detective shook his head hard, causing his whole body to jerk. It was rapidly becoming too much. He leant forward from the waist and let out a long, low groan as his body shivered from the combination of pleasure and pain.

The doctor moved forward and ran his hand through his boy's sweaty curls. “What's making you be so good, hmm?” He asked fondly.

Sherlock turned his head and rubbed his cheek against John's hand, trying to put all his trust and love into the gesture.

“I don't even think you're trying for an orgasm, I think you are just trying to outdo your brother. What do you think, Greg? Is he winning?”

“Hmm,” he pondered a moment. “I'm afraid to say I think he is.”

Sherlock tried not to let his smug pride show. Under the circumstances, it wasn't all that difficult. He was on the edge of sensory overload.

Mycroft managed a whimper around the gag, his little brother did not get to show him up.

“Seeing as my boy is winning. You can pick his reward,” he offered the DCI.

Greg grinned, stepping forward, he reached for Sherlock's gag and pulled it free.

Sherlock heaved a deep breath and nodded his appreciation to Greg. He daren't risk speaking and ruin everything, not when things were going so well.

This would be the first time in a long while Sherlock was not going to screw things up. When Greg also removed his blindfold he squeezed his eyes shut against the light. “Thank you, sir.”

Two hands stroked through his curls. One had John's familiar touch. The other was clearly Greg's. Sherlock opened his eyes slowly, blinking. The sight of himself tethered to his brother was surreal.

Mycroft had clearly not been so well behaved, still blindfolded and still gagged he also seemed to be cuffed. He was going to make a sarcastic comment, but realised it wouldn't get him anywhere. He would behave. He would make John proud.

Sherlock gestured towards his brother with his chin. “Please, sirs.”

The two Doms exchanged surprised glances.

“What, boy?” John asked, he took hold of the hair at the back of the detective's head and strained his neck back to the extreme.

The movement had managed to shift Sherlock's hips on the dildo and he hissed when his brother let out another moan. The clamps' movement only shifted the weights.

“It's Mycroft, sir,” he tried to look at Greg, “sirs, can he have his blindfold and gag removed too?” Sherlock wasn't being completely altruistic. Yes, he was proud of outperforming his brother, but he didn't want to engender any hard feelings, not with their oh-so-recently-mended relationship on the line.

“I don't know…” John looked to Greg and nodded.

“What will you give us if we do what you ask?” The older Dom questioned.

Sherlock licked his lips. Normally he wouldn't hesitate with his answer. But it was Greg that had asked not John.

The DCI tugged on the chain that still connected the brothers. “I don't mind just watching. So, what's your answer?”

He looked at his brother who was for some reason, shaking his head. The comment he was going to grumble stayed inside and he glanced at the Doms. “Whatever you want.”

“Is he normally so accommodating?” Greg asked.

John shook his head in the negative. “Not like this. When he says that, I can normally tell that he's being manipulative. I think he actually means it this time.”

“Why?”

“Because he's new to this,” Sherlock hadn't taken his eyes off his brother.

“He wanted to be thrown into the deep end, Sherlock.”

The detective attempted to put to use every observational skill he possessed, despite the obvious distractions, but he only came up with a plethora of question marks. “I don't know what to say. Am I supposed to offer to suck off John or the both of you or...” He couldn't finish the question.

He looked at John and sighed. “You might as well gag me again before I say something to get myself in trouble.” He suddenly didn't care about the intrusion in his arse, he just slouched forward.

John crouched down by Sherlock and, in one swift motion, removed one of the clover clamps. The sub bit back a sharp cry at the renewed pain as blood flowed back into the abused nub.

“You were asking a question, boy. Greg and I would like to hear the rest of what you had to ask.”

Sherlock shook his head.

John replaced the clamp, but turned at 90 degrees so it would cause a fresh pain. “Pet, we, really, really want to hear it.”

Sherlock glanced at Greg, then looked into John's deep blue eyes. He swallowed once. “Would you like me to suck off Mycroft?” He closed his eyes, not believing he had said it. “It doesn't matter, sir. Just ignore me. You'll do what you want anyway. There's nothing I can do.”

John watched his boy for a moment, he seemed incredibly defeated.

John gently unclipped both clover clamps, handed the chain to Greg and soothed Sherlock's nipples with his thumbs. After a moment, he helped him stand.

Greg did the same with Mycroft, then removed the blindfold and gag. It was definitely time for a serious talk.


	2. Sometimes, They Need to Talk

Greg went to the loo and fetched two dressing gowns from the cupboard, he brought them back into the room where the other men waited. He handed one to Sherlock and one to Mycroft. Being clothed would help put them on a more even footing for the upcoming conversation.

“Is there a living room or something?” John asked. He knew there would be in a house this size but he had no idea how to find it.

Sherlock nodded. “It's this way.”

The four men made their way to the living room. Once there, they took their seats. Out of habit, Sherlock started to kneel at John's feet, but the doctor stopped him.

“You need to sit up here for this.” John patted the sofa.

The detective shook his head, clearly not happy with that idea. Instead he knelt beside John's leg. “I don't want to.”

It was difficult, but John clamped down on the urge to make it a full blown order. “Ok, whatever you need.” He looked over at Greg and Mycroft. “I don't even know how to start.”

Mycroft was sat about as close to Greg as he could get.

Sherlock leant his head against his knee, also unsure as to what was going on. The brothers seemed to be floating in 'space.

With a sigh, John decided it was going to be up to him after all. “Sherlock, can you tell me what that was back there?”

The detective ducked his head, then he leant over and buried his face against John's leg. He shook his head without looking up.

It didn't take long for his arms to sneak out and wrap around his leg. “It was weird being the 'good one' for a change,” he refused to look at John and he certainly refused to look at his brother.

Mycroft gave Greg's hand a squeeze even as he addressed his brother. “That's not it, Sherlock. I've always known how you feel. It doesn't bother me and they're not going to judge you.”

The dark curls of Sherlock's head bounced as he shook his head again, his face still hidden. “It's not normal and John will leave.”

John sighed. “Sherlock we've fought, we've argued. My temper gets the better of me and you poison and experiment on me, can anything be worse than that? And yet here we are, two jagged edges that fit together. Feelings aren't going to change that.”

Sherlock lurched to his feet in preparation to flee the room, but John caught him by the arm and pulled him into his lap.

“Let me go!” the detective yelled, but John held him in a firm grip.

“Sherlock,” Mycroft began, but paused. He took a deep breath and plunged onward, “I haven't been honest with you, 'Lock. There's a reason I've always kept you at arm’s length. I knew we'd end up at this point and I'd have to tell you how I feel.”

“I know how you feel. No matter what you said before, I know you're disgusted.”

“Sherlock…”

“No!” He wriggled and fought until there was a gap in John's grip and he struggled free, using it to his advantage. Then he was off.

The manor was massive, if he hid only Mycroft would know where and he wouldn't want to so he was practically unfindable.

“Well, that went swimmingly.” John fell backwards against the sofa cushion and wiped his hands over his face.

Greg gave Mycroft a kick. “Couldn't you have just come out and told him that you feel the same as he does?”

“I know, Gregory.” Mycroft stood. “I'll go talk to him. I know where he's likely to hide.”

“I can't help but think that's a bad idea,” John warned.

“Why?”

“Because he seems to think I've disowned him because of his feelings.” The doctor shook his head sadly. “If you find him alone he's going to know something's wrong when it's not.”

Mycroft gave the doctor a small nod. “Together, then. Come along, John.”

As they made their way through the manor, John could feel Mycroft's eyes on him. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. “What?”

“You're a fascinating man, John Watson. My brother is correct about one thing, our feelings for one another aren't considered normal, but you've taken it in stride.”

“What, and Greg hasn't?”

Mycroft inclined his head slightly. “Fair point.”

“I love him,” John continued. “I'd die for him… like he has for me… nothing he or you for that matter, say will make me change my mind.”

“Good.” Mycroft paused by a built-in bookcase and ran his hand along its upper edge. The bookcase swung inward.

John laughed despite the situation. “You can't be serious.”

“What would an old manor be without its secrets?”

As Mycroft made his way down the steps, John paused at the top, “Myc, wait, this is too easy.”

Mycroft looked up, surprised by the nick name but further surprised by the fact John had pointed out something he, himself should have seen.

“You're correct.” Mycroft stared ahead, unseeing, as he thought. “There are two places he used to hide when he had blown something up and didn't want to be found. No one could find him but me.” He looked upwards. “There's a small vent in the attic. He used to climb out through it and onto the roof.”

John nodded. “Where's the stairs?”

The older man pointed down the hall and followed the doctor, closing the bookcase behind them.

They found Sherlock sat by said vent. He seemed so angry that he no longer fit through it that he was surprised by the other men's arrival.

The detective looked around, but there was nowhere to run, he was cornered.” “Piss off!”

“Nope. Not until you agree to come back and talk with us,” John countered.

Sherlock turned around and presented them with a view of his back.

““Lock, I should have told you how I feel about you long ago. I've been physically attracted to you since you were 18 and I ran from it, but it's not just that. I love you 'Lock. Not like I love Gregory, but not the way I should love you as a brother. I pushed you away to protect you from myself.”

The edge of Sherlock's face could barely be seen – he had turned his head towards them as his brother spoke. “I don't understand.”

“I had a choice. I chose the wrong one.”

Sherlock spun back again. “Are you admitting you were wrong?”

Mycroft fell to the floor next to him. “About so many things.”

He reached out towards his brother, and Sherlock fell into his arms with a choked off sob. “I'm sorry, 'Lock.”

After a few minutes the detective let Mycroft go and looked hesitantly at John. “You haven't run away.”

“And I'm not going to, you git.” John knelt down by the brothers. “I love you and nothing is going to change that. As long as you love me, you're stuck with me.”

Sherlock smiled. “You're the git.”

John shook his head in response. “You cheeky sod.”

The detective said something that he never ever said. “I'm hungry.”

John's mouth worked open and closed a few times, making him look like a fish. “What have you done with my boyfriend?” he finally asked. Sherlock gave a shrug. “Alright, babe, let's go let Greg know we're sorted and we'll find something for you to eat, yeah?”

He nodded, almost dopily and even helped his brother to his feet.

“Lead on, little brother.”

The detective did but he didn't let go of either of their hands once he had hold of them.

Greg had been pacing the room and wishing he had gone with the other two men to find Sherlock. When the trio appeared, hands locked together, he heaved a sigh of relief. “God, I was worried about you.” His words were meant for all three of them.

“Everything is fine, Gregory.” Mycroft reached out and took the DI's hand. “We can talk about it whilst we feed my brother. He has proclaimed his hunger.” He looked at Sherlock fondly.

The DCI's response was much like John's had been. He stood gaping like a fish for a moment, “you feeling alright, Sherlock?”

The detective grinned broadly and swung his arms, still holding John and Mycroft's hands. “Of course I do. Why does everyone keep asking that? I do eat on occasion.”

“Not voluntarily, babe.” John brought Sherlock's hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles, then he looked him straight in the eye. “Are you my boy again?”

The detective swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

“Then take off that dressing gown. I want to be able to look at you while we eat.”

As Sherlock obliged Mycroft looked towards his own Dom, temporary or otherwise.

“You know exactly what I'm going to ask, don't you, Mycroft?”

The government official didn't respond, just dropped the dressing gown.

“You're not usually so messy, boy, pick it up and put it away,” the DCI ordered.

As Mycroft bent and picked up the dressing gown, Sherlock watched him from under lowered lashes. It was the first time he'd felt free to indulge and he took full advantage of his new found freedom.

Greg noticed. “He is nice to look at, isn't he?”

Sherlock nodded almost shyly at the Dom. “Yes, sir. He is.”

Sherlock wasn't sure what happened next, none of them where, but suddenly the detective had Mycroft pinned beneath him and he was leaning forward to kiss him. “Hi big brother.”

Mycroft grinned and then frowned at Greg over Sherlock's shoulder.

The DCI grabbed Sherlock by the curls and yanked him up to his feet. “Oops.”

“You will apologise to me for taking liberties with my pet, then you will apologise to John for acting without his permission.” Greg didn't relax his grip in the slightest.

“Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir for touching your pet.” Greg gave his curls a tug and the sub turned his eyes to John. “And I'm sorry, sir. I didn't have your permission either, sir.”

The doctor didn't seem bothered in the least that Greg had intercepted his boy, he was just raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

John reached out and snatched Sherlock's curls in his own hand, ready for Greg to let go. The moment he did, John started towards the kitchen, pulling his boy behind him by the curls. “Be thinking of a suitable punishment, boy, and I had better be impressed by your creativity. You have to until after we eat to think about it.”

“All I did was- argh!” John yanked his head back.

“What was that!?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Better.” He was pushed to his knees in the corner. “Now not a word from you until we've fixed some food.”

Sherlock glared at the wall in front of him. He finally had permission to feel the way he did about his brother and he wanted to express those feeling, but he had said he was John's boy again and now he was stuck here in the corner. He kicked the floor behind him in frustration.

“Excuse me, boy, is there a problem?”

Sherlock shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Then shut it.”

A few seconds later Mycroft was forced to his knees beside him.

The government official/sub, inched his way carefully towards his brother until their elbows were touching. It was a tiny point of contact, but it was enough to ground Sherlock. The detective leaned into the touch, strengthening the connection.

Behind them, Greg tapped John on his shoulder and pointed at the other two men. The doctor smiled and nodded that he'd seen what their boys had done; it was touching.

John pulled Greg out of the room and closed the door. “As long as they don't talk, they're good, right?”

The DCI nodded. “They're good. Now food, come to think of it, I'm hungry too.”

“Pizza,” John decided.

45 minutes later, the pizza was ready. John placed it on the table as Greg tossed a couple of cushions on the floor for the two subs.

“Are you still hungry, pet?” the doctor asked.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, he still preferred to be called boy. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He grabbed both subs by the hair and tugged them around so they were on the conveniently placed cushions.

“Have you thought of your creative punishment yet, Sherlock? Because if you haven't, I'll make Mycroft.”

The detective's eyes went wide. He hadn't even thought about punishment, so caught up was he in the simple touch of Mycroft's skin to his own.

“So you haven't.” John shifted his gaze to Mycroft. “What do you suggest?”

The DCI chimed in, “If it's not suitable, the same will be done to you.”

The elder sub swallowed. One thing had sprung to mind instantly, it was actually quite simple, but Sherlock would hate it. “Make him watch you fuck me, sir.” He glanced at the doctor briefly, weighing what his reaction would be. “And have me service John at the same time.”

“Myc-”

“Be quiet Sherlock,” John growled in a tone of voice that made him think he probably shouldn't speak again.

John turned to the greying haired man, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.

Greg searched John's face and saw the same surprised agreement there. He walked over and cupped Mycroft's face. “Good boy, pet. That was a brilliant suggestion.”

“Please, John!” Sherlock begged.

The doctor took hold of his boy's curls. “Enough, boy. We will do precisely as your brother suggested and you will watch, if I have to tie you up to make you do it.”

Sherlock tried to pull his hair free. “But-”

“But nothing! I've already told you to shut it, if I have to again you will regret it.”

“How can I regret things anymore than-” shit, buggering bollocks.

As John pulled him down the hall in the direction of the playroom, the detective did his best to keep his mouth shut. John released him at the staircase. He turned and implored the Dom one more time, “Please, sir.”

“That's it. You're going back on the cross and I'm gagging you.”

“Sir, I'm hungry-”

“You can eat when we're done, I've had enough of you attempting to top from the bottom. Cross. Now.”

Silent, with head low, Sherlock made his way over to it.

“May I borrow Mycroft for a moment?” John asked the other Dom.

“Be my guest.”

“Mycroft, tie Sherlock to the cross, make certain he's secure, find the most uncomfortable gag you own and put it on him.”

Mycroft glanced at his little brother. “You brought this on yourself, 'Lock.”

“I did not. It was your idea.”

He pushed the detective back into the cross and ducked down to tie his feet first.

“Hands up.”

Sherlock just glowered in his direction.

“Don't make me force you.”

“I'd like to see you try.”

Mycroft's eyebrows shot up. He grabbed Sherlock's bollocks and gave them a hard squeeze. “You forget, baby brother, I have years of practice as a Dom. Raise your hands and hold them in place.”

“But not my Dom!” Sherlock winced, glad for once that Mycroft could not get hold of his cock.

“We've discussed this, we know each other's feelings now. I can do whatever I like as a Dom. Now put. Your. Hands. Up.”

Slowly but surely, Sherlock's hands raised and Mycroft strapped them in place.

Next, Mycroft held up a penis shaped gag. It wasn't long enough that it would cause trouble breathing, but it was monstrous in girth. He forced it into his brother's mouth, stretching his lips wide around it. Mycroft could feel himself trying to get hard in his little cage from handling Sherlock in the position of a Dom. He gave himself a shake and reminded himself that he was acting as Greg's sub. Stepping back, Mycroft knelt and looked up at both Doms. “Is that satisfactory, sirs?”

The detective was glaring down at his brother, despite his awkward position.

“I would blindfold you too, boy but you need to watch this.”

He pulled a chair from across the room and sunk into it, fiddling with the buttons on his trousers.

Sherlock groaned because he knew he would watch it. He wouldn't be able to tear his eyes away from the show. By now, John had pulled his cock out. It was half hard already. Sherlock didn't know what was worse, that he couldn't have that cock in his own mouth or that Mycroft would. He wanted to be both giver and receiver, but was nothing more than a bystander. Perfect punishment.

Greg gave Mycroft a shove between his shoulder blades. “Crawl over and put your head in John's lap, but don't touch his cock yet.”

“Yes, sir,” Mycroft couldn't resist a smug look over his shoulder.

Sherlock thrashed where he was tied and bit down hard on the gag… how could his brother suggest this let alone actually go through with it.

Mycroft had never been particularly exhibitionistic in nature, but the idea that Sherlock was watching was extremely arousing. He did feel moderately guilty for suggesting this as punishment, but as a Dom, it's what he would have done to his own sub.

Greg had divested himself of his clothing and he approached Mycroft from behind. “Hold steady while I prepare you.” He was careful not to block Sherlock's view.

Even as Greg made himself comfortable, Sherlock struggled. He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't look at the faces of content in front of him. John cleared his throat as he grabbed Mycroft by the hair and pulled him down on his cock.

“Looking for more trouble boy?”

Sherlock's eyes flew open. What he saw was beautiful, but infuriating. Mycroft's body was straining between the two Doms and John's head was thrown back in ecstasy. He couldn't stop himself, he actually growled around the fake cock as he struggled against his bonds.

“You can thrash about as much as you want, Sherlock,” Greg growled. “You aren't getting down from there until either me or John says so.”

Sherlock wished that he could just spit the gag out, but it wasn't going anywhere as it sat heavily on his tongue.

Mycroft was sweating and Sherlock could hear his moans as he sucked John's cock. The moans were punctuated now and again by little cries when Greg's cock brushed over the sub's prostate. After one such thrust, Mycroft let out a broken sound that triggered the blond Dom's orgasm. John's hands pulled Mycroft's head down as his hips thrust up into his willing mouth. Even as the sub struggled to swallow what he was given, he felt Greg's rhythm falter. Soon, the DCI, too was coming and filling him.

When Mycroft pushed off of the doctor’s cock, Greg pulled out also, sitting back on his own haunches.

Both Doms were fully satisfied, even Mycroft was grinning. But Sherlock, Sherlock was crying in extremely angry frustration.

When John noticed, he frowned. “Something wrong, pet?”

Inside his head, Sherlock was screaming, “I'm not your pet! I'm your boy, or I was, but it's all just a joke to you, how I feel about Mycroft! It's a joke to all of you!”

Mycroft looked at his brother and frowned, then he blanched. “Sussex.” He got up and ran to his brother and started removing the gag. “I'm sorry, 'Lock. I'm so, so sorry. Shh.”

Sherlock just glared at him, despite his own voice's freedom.

Mycroft untied his hands and then knelt down to do the same to his feet.

As he stood again to grab his brother in a hug, he was shoved away with surprising strength for a skinny man.

“Leave me alone, Mycroft.”

Before he could get away, he was attacked from three sides and held in place by three pairs of arms, all of which wrapped around him. Sherlock struggled and thrashed, finally going still. He couldn't get away, it was hopeless. He rested his head on John's shoulder and cried.

“Well,” John murmured into the detective's ear, “I fucked up again, love. It was too soon, too raw to play with. I'm sorry. We should have seen that.”

Sherlock didn't comment. He didn't feel much like talking. To any of them.

Mycroft shook his head, almost sadly. “I kind of assumed, seeing as it had been something I had wanted for years it would be okay for him too. I was wrong. Again.”

The three of them waited for some snarky attitude from the youngest of them but nothing was said. Sherlock regained control of his emotions like normal and straightened out of John's grip. Anything else that he said was sure to be criticised or laughed at.

Greg didn't let go when the others did. Instead, he pulled Sherlock to him and hugged him tighter. “I'm the one that should have kept my head.” The detective tried to break away. “No. You're going to stand there and let me do this.” When Sherlock quit fighting him, Greg ran his hand through the younger man's curls. “All the times I've seen you hurting, I had to stand by and do nothing. Not this time. And certainly not when there's no reason for it. Whatever you think just happened, it wasn't done to hurt you. Now,” he held Sherlock at arm’s length and tried to look into his eyes, “let us make it up to you.”

“How?” Sherlock asked brokenly.

“However you want.”

“You'll do whatever I want?” His voice was quiet.

They nodded.

“Then get the fuck off me and leave me alone.”

The three men backed off and let him go.

He stalked to the kitchen and stared at the pizza, then knocked it off the table. It made him feel better. He picked up the dishes that had been set out one at a time and smashed them against the wall. For good measure, he kicked a chair over, then left the room and made his way outside. Once there, he threw himself on the ground and stared at the sky. He continued to stare at the sky even as it started to rain. What the hell had he been thinking? He should have known things were too good to be true, but once again he had let his guard down and the reason why he always seemed to hate his brother made him feel much worse.

After some debate, it was decided that Mycroft should go after his brother alone. He was the one who had suggested the disaster, after all. He was also given permission to take action as he saw fit and given the keys to the two cock cages.

Mycroft found his brother out on the back lawn. “Hello, baby brother.” He lay on the ground next to Sherlock who immediately rolled away.

With a sigh, Mycroft  reached out and touched Sherlock's shoulder. “'Lock, please look at me.” He got no response, but at least the other man hadn't pulled away. Mycroft shuffled closer and placed a kiss to the back of Sherlock's neck. “Let me fix this. I want to.” He kissed him again and pressed up against him. “Please. I'll beg, if that's what's needed.”

Sherlock stared at the shadows that were the woods, the moon only illuminating them slightly.

He didn't know what to say, and he certainly didn't know what to do. In any other circumstances, laying naked on the back lawn of your parents' house with your naked brother lying beside you would be incredibly weird, but right now it just made him feel worse.

Mycroft sighed and draped his arm around Sherlock. “Can I at least do this?” He wanted to offer comfort, not push his brother.

Sherlock didn't react for the longest time, he just kept looking into the darkness. How was he supposed to feel? He took Mycroft's hand in his and stroked his fingers absently, trying not to think.

“Why aren't you mad? Why did you make them do that?”

“Because this is something I've fantasised over for a long time. Much like being a Dom. I got that part but could never have you. And when I got the opportunity… I took it. I thought it was what you wanted, too.”

“I do want it, but you made it a mockery of me.”

“No we didn't, 'Lock.”

“But you did. You said you wanted me, but you didn't. The first opportunity you had, you tossed me aside. You rejected me. I thought... I thought you wanted me, but you didn't. You don't.”

Mycroft kissed his nape again. “I did and I do want you. I should have found a way to give myself to you before we played. I made a miscalculation which I deeply regret.”

“I don't know.”

“But I do. Let me give you this,” Mycroft ran his hand over Sherlock's chest. “Let me give you something loving, without all the games, so you can know too.”

He shook his head. “No. I don't know what I want. But I know I don't want you to do something you're going to regret.”

Mycroft hugged him. “I already have, 'Lock, I'm so sorry.”

Sherlock rolled over and looked at him, still unsure. Mycroft showed him the keys he had been given. “I'll give you everything, any way you want, like I should have done.

The detective took the keys with a shaky hand. “Are you sure?”

Mycroft nodded. “Always.”


	3. Beautiful Things

Sherlock walked into the manor rather sheepishly, his brother just behind him.

“You boys okay?” Greg called through from the living room where Mycroft had left them.

The government official glanced at his younger brother. “Yeah,” he pushed the door open. “We're good.”

John looked at his boy, his eyes drifting downward. “You look like you're very ok.” He held out his hand and took the keys and the cock cages from the blushing detective's hand.

“Yes, sir,” Sherlock answered, his blush deepening even further. “What happened earlier- I didn't-”

John pressed his index finger to his lips. “Not another word. You were right.”

“I wasn't,” Sherlock argued. “I overreacted. I'm sorry, sir.”

John ran his hand down his boy's arm. “Can we agree that we all made some mistakes and move on?” The sub nodded. “Good. And, Sherlock, please, when you get distressed like that, use your safe word.”

Sherlock frowned. “Oh yeah. But it wasn't me that was-”

“It doesn't matter. It's for if you're uncomfortable. Doesn't matter what we're doing.”

“So can I have pizza now?” Sherlock seemed to want to change the subject and if he was talking about food that was fine by the doctor.

John grinned. “Of course, boy, we'll cook another and you are going to kneel at my feet like a good little boy aren't you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“All mine again?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Greg?” John asked.

“Sure,” the DCI grabbed Mycroft's ear as he walked passed and dragged him after him to the kitchen.

John froze when he saw the disaster that had been made of the kitchen. He reminded himself that Sherlock had been upset when he had torn the room apart. He saw the apprehensive look on Sherlock's face. “Boy, all I'm going to say is get to work.”

The detective nodded once. “Yes, sir,” he sighed.

John could see his own boy was still distracted by the cages that he held. “You're in control when it comes to these, Sherlock. Well of your own at any rate. You remember what I said about it?”

“It's a controlling measure, sir, not a Punishment.”

“So if I feel the need to control you- I guess you know what I might do.”

“Yes, sir.” Sherlock began cleaning. He started by sweeping up the broken glass.

Mycroft frowned, his brow furrowing. “Sirs, may I assist my brother?”

John glanced to Greg and, at the other Dom's nod, he indicated his own sub to continue. “You have half an hour, boys, that's how long the pizza will take and this place better be spotless.”

The brothers completed their task just in time. When the timer went off, Sherlock sank to his knees on the cushion nearest John, breathing out a sigh of relief.

The doctor ran his fingers through his sub's hair. “Good job, pet.”

The sub soaked up the much needed praise, not even minding being called pet.

Mycroft waited on his own cushion for his own Dom to return from the oven with the pizzas. He waited for the hand to drop in his own hair, the praise. Just when he thought it wasn't coming Greg's hand fell to his hair.

The DCI leant over. “I'm proud of you, boy,” Greg crooned into Mycroft's ear.

The simple words of praise made Mycroft shiver. He was more susceptible to it than he had expected. He had never known what a sub felt when a Dom praised them. Now he did. He grinned when Greg held a piece of pizza to his lips and took a bite.

At the same time, Sherlock accepted a bite of pizza that John had torn off and held to his lips. The doctor let his fingers linger for a moment and Sherlock pressed a kiss to them. He'd felt so many things that day that he was grateful for John's anchoring presence. Without meaning to, he shuffled forward and rested his head in his Dom's lap.

John grinned down at him. They should have thrown the two brothers in a bedroom before they thought about playing.

When Sherlock started nuzzling at John's crotch, the Dom grabbed him by the curls and pulled his head up and back. “Patience, boy” John admonished. “Eat a bit more for me.”

Sherlock nodded difficultly. “Sorry, sir.”

“Eat.”

More pizza was placed at Sherlock's lips and he managed to chew just enough until John let him go. The sub tilted his head back, inviting a kiss. John obliged him, then held a glass of water up for him to drink from. Sherlock drank deeply, licking his lips suggestively when he was done. Suddenly, he was aware of three pairs of eyes watching him.

“Piss off,” he spat in his brother's direction, which was conveniently in Greg's direction too. Just because he'd spent a special moment with Mycroft earlier didn't change a thing. Well, he kept telling himself that.

John grabbed him by the hair, roughly this time. “You owe Greg an apology.”

“Why? I didn't say anything to him!”

“You were rude to his sub.”

Sherlock glanced between the other kneeling man and his Dom. “But he's my brother,” he said with a frown.

“Boy,” John warned, “I suggest you close that pretty mouth of yours. It's getting you into trouble.” He looked over at the other Dom. “Since it was your sub he was rude to, you can name the punishment.”

“Punishment? Hang on. All I did was tell him to piss off.”

“And you knelt. Which means you're mine again. You know the rules about politeness and rudeness. You know the different responses you get for each one. Is this about earlier? If it is safe word.”

“No, it's not about earlier – I deserved that, this is-”

John's grip tightened in his hair. Sherlock hissed in pain.

“It's a bad habit of yours, pet, insulting people. You treat your brother the worst of anyone. If Greg and I want to, we'll set Mycroft over you with all the rights of a Dom and you'll learn to respect him that way.”

Sherlock stared up at the doctor, unsure where this need to be rude and irritating was coming from. “Respect is earned not given, Mycroft told me that!”

Mycroft willed his brother to be quiet and it had all the effect of an umbrella against a hurricane. “'Lock, hush,” he hissed through gritted teeth. He wasn't offended by Sherlock's words, after all, he knew they weren't sincere. He was just being himself. Outside… they had found something in one another that they would never lose, his brother was just putting on a show.

“You hush!” Sherlock snapped.

Mycroft lowered his head, shaking it sadly.

John pulled one of the cock cages out of his pocket. He tossed it in the air and caught it, then looked hard at Sherlock. “Control, pet. It's all about control. If you can't manage a small bit of it, I'll do it for you.”

Sherlock just looked around for a moment and then dropped his head, making a point of sighing heavily. He stared at the corner of the pillow he was knelt on rather than say anything further.

“Better.” John looked over at the other Dom. “So, punishment?”

“I bet his arse glows when he gets a good spanking. That's something I'd like to see,” Greg mused.

Mycroft shifted where he was knelt. It was something he'd like to see as well.

“Well, we'll keep this nice and simple. It's your choice whether he remains a sub,” he indicated Mycroft with an incline of his head, “or whether he'd like to become a Dom for a few hours. Either way, Sherlock is going over my knee.” He pulled Sherlock's head up by his curls and held another piece of pizza at his lips, leaving him to think on it.

Greg bit his lip, and looked from Sherlock to his boy. It was plain to see what Mycroft wanted. He was more than inclined to allow it. “God, John, I know you just gave him a choice and you intend to spank him, but unless Sherlock safe words, I really would like Mycroft to do it.”

The doctor glanced between the older man and his kneeling sub, his head still low, submissive. “I don't know… we made that mistake earlier. I'll not make it again.”

Sherlock teetered on the brink, unsure himself what he wanted. “Sir, I-”

“Go ahead, pet,” John urged.

The sub gave his head the barest hint of a shake. “Eventually, I think it would be ok, but not just yet.” He made himself look John in the eyes. “Sir, please.”

The doctor pulled Sherlock up and onto his lap, wrapping his arms around him. “Not until you're ready.” He placed a kiss on his sub's lips, then before Sherlock could process what was happening, flipped him over his lap, arse in the air.

“Sir-”

“You going to tell me you don't deserve this?”

Sherlock’s hips shifted as he tried to get comfy.

“You've got a choice, Boy, either I put the cage on you now or you wait for pleasure until after I'm done with your arse, but listen carefully, because if you get hard I might have to find some ice again.”

Sherlock shifted slightly so his cock was hanging free. He definitely didn't want to revisit the ice treatment.

“Good decision, boy.” John ran his hand over Sherlock's back and down over his smooth, inviting bum. “Get back on the floor and kneel up.”

Sherlock obeyed, he didn't fancy what John might do with the ice if he didn't.

“Trying to work out if it's a shame or not that this cage has a sound in it.”

If it made John hesitate before putting the thing on him, then the sound was a good thing.

“Put on a pot of boiling water,” John ordered, “I want to sterilize this thing before I use it again.”

Sherlock cringed. Bollocks!

The detective watched in nothing but dread as Greg flicked the kettle on.

“Oh, don't worry, boy. You can go over my knee until I'm happy that thing is free of harmful things and then your real spanking can start.”

Mycroft, knelt and posed with his hands behind his head. He was so absorbed in watching the little scene unfold, that he was caught completely off guard when Greg walked up behind him and grabbed his wrists. The Dom pulled his sub's arms out and down and twisted them behind his back.

“Sir?” Mycroft choked.

“Deliberately trying to get your brother in trouble, boy?” He pulled his twisted arms upwards until Mycroft was bent double.

“I don't know what you mean, sir,” Mycroft's voice was small, given his position.

Greg pushed down a bit harder. “Boy,” he warned.

“I didn't mean to get him in trouble, sir. Apologies. I was distracted, sir.”

“You were distracted? The great Mycroft Holmes? Never.”

Mycroft hissed in a breath between his teeth, he could hear John's hand landing again and again on his brother's behind.

“Making a point of staring at him to wind him up – just be glad the kettle’s boiled,” he added moving towards it and letting go of his boy.

Mycroft didn't move from the awkward position Greg had placed him in, he knew he daren't. It was incredibly frustrating because he couldn't see Sherlock at all, he could just hear the continued smacks and the slight hitching of breath. Mycroft tensed when the chair beside him moved and Greg sat down. The DCI took hold of his sub's cuffed wrists and pulled them just passed comfortable.

Greg enjoyed the quiet hiss that Mycroft let out. “Turn your head, boy. You can watch, but you can't touch.” He watched as Mycroft did as instructed. “You'll be putting on a show just like that as soon as John is done.”

Sherlock wasn't in much pain, but when Greg stood again to retrieve the cock cage, he slid back to his knees head low. John examined the cage, happy that it was clean.

“Mycroft, I think we can put yours back on too.”

“Gregory...”

The DCI pulled on Mycroft's arms, straining them and making him moan. “What did you say, Boy?”

“Sir, please.”

“If I was on my knees and you were sat here, would a complaint change your mind?”

“No, sir.”

“Then are you seriously expecting me it to change mine?”

“No, sir.” Mycroft would have let his shoulders slump were it not for Greg's grip on him.

“Good.” The DCI pulled him up and over his lap. When Mycroft did nothing more than grunt, Greg nodded. “You catch on fast.” He smacked the older man's arse once. “Get your cage, and put some fresh water in the bowl.”

John hadn't been hitting him very hard, but his even, consistent strokes had done their job. He looked up from his boy's lovely pink arse. “Shall we relocate to the playroom, Greg? They deserve a proper workover.”

The DCI nodded. When Mycroft had placed the cage in the fresh bowl of water, Greg grabbed both boys by the ear and dragged them from the room.

John waited until he was happy with the cleanliness of the second cage and grabbed some ice cubes just in case before he followed on.

In the playroom, Greg had made the two subs kneel, facing each other, but several feet apart. The DCI was browsing through the impact toys, trying to decide which one to use on his pet.

John placed the cage and bucket of ice on the nearest table and moved towards his boy, he took his cock in his hand and eased the sound into the tip.

Sherlock remained knelt with his head bowed. His cock was in full view. The sub's attention was completely held by the combined sensations and vision of the sound sliding into him. Despite himself, he let out several low, pitiful moans.

“Go ahead and let me hear those lovely sounds, pet,” John urged. “They let me hear your submission.”

The sound was still being worked in and Sherlock closed his eyes. He couldn't resist the urge anymore. He reached forward and grabbed John around the neck in a hug.

John had been caught completely off guard by his boy's actions. “Sherlock?” He felt himself being gripped tighter. “Boy? Love?” Holding the partially inserted sound with one hand, John brought his other arm around to return the embrace.

Sherlock held it long enough, but broke away just before the doctor got annoyed. He knelt back on his heels, replacing his hands behind his head. “Sorry, sir.”

John tousled his boy's hair. “It's fine, this time.” Now he gripped the dark curls tight and tugged. “But from now on, you will ask before breaking stance.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And before touching me.”

“Yes, sir.”

John finished with the cage. “I'm going to leave you off the cross, boy, I'll use the bench instead. Go and lay over it for me.”

Just as Sherlock stretched himself out over the bench, he heard the first smack of what had to be a wooden paddle against Mycroft's bare arse. Greg must have bent him over right where he was knelt and he couldn't see it!

John shook his head. “Oh, Sherlock, your brother's arse is not your problem, I'd worry about your own.”

Sherlock felt the familiar feel of knots from a flogger, he was unsure which one it was, Mycroft had so many variations at the Diogenes, he probably matched it here.

John ran the flogger over his boy's back, down between his legs and along each one individually. Finally, he pulled his arm back and let the flogger fly. Sherlock gave a satisfying moan and wriggled his hips, inviting another blow.

“You can wiggle as much as you like, boy, enjoy yourself even, but this is just the beginning and that little cage of yours – well, you've already come once today, I'm assuming.”

“No, I haven't!” He growled as the second and third blow fell.

“Greg, please ask your sub if they both came.”

“No! Alright, I have, sir, but-”

John grabbed Sherlock by the hair.

“Chuck us a gag, Greg.”

The DCI broke off what he was doing to toss a large ball gag to the other Dom. “He does have trouble with that mouth of his, doesn't he?”

John laughed. “Yeah, he does. It's a good thing his lips look so good stretched around a gag since he wears one so often.”

“Practice makes perfect.”

He rammed the ball between his boy's teeth. “You'd think.” He buckled the gag up behind his head and reached under the table for a Karabiner, he used it to connect his wrists behind him. “Shall we continue?”

The detective just growled even as Greg laughed at Mycroft's whimper.

“You know what happens when you're hard and I need to put this little thing in a cage,” the DCI warned.

“Little-”

Greg gave Mycroft's reddened arse a squeeze. “Hush, boy! I can call it anything I like.”

The sub let out an offended huff and tried to shift away.

“I don't think so,” Greg admonished. He reached down and gripped Mycroft's cock, giving it a couple of firm strokes. “Look how hard you are, boy.”

The government official hissed as the DCI placed a few cubes of ice to the back of his ball sac.

“Gregory!”

“Tut-tut, boy. You're just like your brother, aren't you?”

“What-”

“I'm gagging you, boy.”

“God dammit! I'm nothing like my brother.”

He heard Sherlock's muffled protests.

“I'm trying to work out if you are trying to outdo him.”

Mycroft froze- “Why would I do that?”

“Oh, come off it. You two have a competitive streak a mile wide.” Greg pulled Mycroft up by the arm. “Come show me which gag I should use to keep your attention.”

By this point John had pulled Sherlock up by his cuffed wrists, to watch, his own arse a layer of red dots, his cock confined in its cage.

“What-” Mycroft began.

“That doesn't require a comment,” the DCI pointed out pushing Mycroft to his knees in front of the array of gags.

“Pick, pet,” Greg ordered, giving the government official a little shove in the back.

Mycroft closed his eyes as he tried to maintain his composure. He was nothing like his brother and he would prove it. His eyes snapped open and he scanned the selection. He chose a spider gag that was adorned with several straps and D rings, indicating his choice with an inclination of his head. Greg grabbed the ball gag, beside the other one, despite knowing which one the kneeling man meant.

Mycroft frowned. “Sir-”

“What? You nodded at it.” Greg shoved it between his teeth and buckled it up, now he was just like his brother. At least, he would be as soon as the sound and cock cage were back in place. Greg retrieved the bowl of ice and ordered Mycroft to the bench. As soon as his boy had bent over it, he applied the ice judiciously. Mycroft thrashed angrily in response. “What? I had already done that, hadn't I? Shame my memory's going.”

Greg took his flaccid cock in his hand and eased the sound in. The sub shuddered, breathing hard around the gag. He was almost glad when his cock had been locked safely away, there would be no more need for ice. Greg seemed to read his pet's mind. He used his hair to turn him over and pushed him back against the table. A little chain seemed to appear out of nowhere and he attached it to the older man's collar.

Two ice cubes were placed on his nipples, taking him completely by surprise, something the DCI very rarely managed. Mycroft grunted his displeasure as he tried to jerk away from the cold. His Dom laughed. “There are other more interesting places I can put the ice if you don't behave.”

The doctor was striking his boy's back.

“Do you want to watch, boy? Your punishment is over.”

Sherlock nodded once, John pulled him around and pushed him onto his knees beside the nearest chair. John's hand fell to his hair and tugged his head to rest on his knee.

Mycroft was trying to work out why he was being punished, but guessed it didn't really matter. It never had when he'd punished Greg, after all, unless it was serious.

The DCI pulled Mycroft's legs further apart until his bollocks were fully exposed. “Don't move, pet.” He went and retrieved a handful of clothespins. “Let's see how many of these you can take.”

Mycroft was biting down on the ball gag incredibly hard.

Sherlock turned his head into John's knee, he did enjoy the sight of his brother, but he liked the musky smell of his Dom more.

Greg had placed eight clothespins on his pet's bollocks causing the sub to break out in a sweat. He stood back and looked at him. “Stay there, boy, while I fetch some more.”

Mycroft was determined to 'be good' especially since he knew his brother was watching. He just wondered how long he could last.

The DCI returned and knelt down in front of the eldest sub. He started placing clothespins along the insides of Mycroft's thighs, already looking forward to the moment he started flicking them off.

John played with his boy's hair for a moment, enjoying the feel of it wrapping around and running through his fingers. “Choose, pet, you have two options,” John whispered. “Continue to watch, or have our own fun.”

Sherlock bit the ball gag hard as he tried to decide, but he was getting restless. He turned as best he could and nuzzled at his Dom's crotch in answer.

“I wondered how long you'd last, babe.” John leant down to kiss him and then tilted his head back with his finger under the chin. Sherlock's eyelids fluttered shut, making his dark lashes fan out. “My pretty boy,” John said admiringly at the sight. He ran his thumbs over his boy's cheekbones. “Would you like me to tie you up, pet? I could make a lovely work of art of you with you suspended in mid-air, then I could fuck that hot little hole of yours. Is that what want, pet?”

Sherlock's eyes darted to the suspension system in the corner.

John smiled. “Go and kneel in the corner for me, boy.”

Sherlock complied immediately not paying attention to Greg's continual application of pegs to his brother.

John chose a deep, dark purple rope that contrasted nicely with Sherlock's pale flesh. “Place your arms at your side, boy. I'm going to start with a basic harness.” The doctor began slowly wrapping the rope around the detective's torso, in equidistant intervals. “Lay on the bench, boy.” As Sherlock obeyed John tightened each loop. Next, John threaded the rope through the loop at the tip of the cock cage, then back up and fastened it to the harness. He wrapped the rope around his boy's torso a few more times, then used it to tie Sherlock's arms together behind his back. John then set the rig to the hanging chains, and began to lift Sherlock up.

It wasn't until Sherlock's head came up that he saw Mycroft was facing in his direction. If he hadn't had that infuriating cage on him, he would have been hard to begin with. Now, with his brother's eyes on him the cage was doubly frustrating.

John anchored the chains and walked around in front of his boy. He reached out and tweaked a nipple that was framed by the purple rope. “You like hanging up, don't you, boy? Nod for me.” At Sherlock's nod, he took the other nipple and twisted.

Mycroft's paddling had come to an end, he was breathing heavily. One by one, Greg was flicking off each peg and Mycroft had never been gladder that he was gagged, well out of the few times he had been. He could see why subs enjoyed it; it blocked any noise they didn't want heard.

He had been focusing on the hanging sub in the corner, but John was now blocking his view to his brother. Greg watched and waited. The moment Mycroft shifted to get a better view, he pounced and pulled his boy's head around by the ear. “It looks like a blindfold is in order to go along with that gag.”

Mycroft looked up at him with worry, but he couldn't keep his eyes off Sherlock.

The DCI moved his hand down to grip the older man's sensitive balls. Mycroft collapsed to his knees, and Sherlock tried to seek out what made the noise.

Greg walked backwards, shifting his grip to the back of Mycroft's neck. The sub was forced to shuffle along with him before he had fully recovered from the pain in his aching bollocks. “Something better,” Greg said when they'd reached the only empty corner in the room. He shifted around so Mycroft was facing the corner. “I'll enjoy the view, you kneel there and be my good little pet.”

Sherlock sucked in a breath when John's fingers dipped between his legs and ran along his perineum. When they danced over and around his hole, he let out a low moan.

“With everything that's happened today, I'm feeling particularly – hmm – God, how I want to fuck you, boy.” John pressed just the tip of his finger into Sherlock's hole, not enough to be truly uncomfortable without lube, but enough to cause the sub to wriggle but all he did was sway. John looked over at the older Dom. “Enjoying the show, Detective Chief Inspector?”

Greg grinned. “Oh yeah.” He crossed his legs over and slouched back further in his chair.

Mycroft shifted and Greg casually swatted the back of his head.

John chuckled and fetched the lube. He opened Sherlock quickly, and fucked him with his fingers.

“This is great John, but could I-” Greg broke off.

The doctor sensed something that may need an opinion from the detective, he unbuckled the gag. “Could you what, Greg?” John asked.

“Fuckhismouth?” It came out as one big mouthful and John grinned.

“What do you think, boy?”

“I'd be honoured, sir. Sirs.”

The DCI looked over his shoulder at the kneeling sub. “Pose any objections, pet? Click now if you do.”

Mycroft's head thudded into the corner, but there was no click.

“Very well,” John agreed, indicating his boy's mouth. “It's your choice if you want a ring gag and what size.” He went back to fucking his fingers into Sherlock's hole.

The detective licked his lips as he thought. He pictured the trio from earlier in the day when he'd been forced to watch. Greg's cock had been truly lovely and he wanted to wrap his lips around it. “Please, sirs, no gag.”

Greg pinched Sherlock’s chin between thumb and forefinger. “And why not, boy?” He growled ignoring his own pet's grumbling from the corner.

Sherlock, already flushed, blushed even deeper. “Because I want to suck you, sir.”

“And?”

Sherlock tried to look away, but Greg wouldn't let him.

“Because I want to wrap my lips around your cock, sir.”

Greg nodded once. “What if I was to say I was in charge? Or rather _we_ … if I want to gag you, I will.”

“Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir. I know it's not my place.” He dropped his head as soon as Greg let him.

“Good answer, boy. Are you going to lower him down a bit, mate?”

Sherlock looked back up at Greg in surprise, having fully expected to be gagged. He swayed as John lowered him, then the DCI steadied him and swung him forward. Faster than he expected, the Dom's cock rested against his lips.

Sherlock grinned and then opened wide. He couldn't help but be proud that he had survived his punishment and being suspended like this without causing further trouble for himself. It was also great that his brother was the one in the corner for a change.

Greg felt as good inside his mouth as Sherlock had thought he would and he hummed his pleasure as he worked his tongue and lips over the Dom's length.

John had frozen, mesmerised by what was happening between Greg and his boy. He gave himself a little shake and started moving his fingers again, but Greg in his boy's mouth was making his pants incredibly uncomfortable. Sod it, he thought and unzipped his fly. He took hold of the hanging man's hips and pushed in slowly, until he couldn't get in any further.

Sherlock grunted at the intrusion, welcome though it was. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked even as he clenched deliberately around the doctor's cock.

Unseen, at least for the moment, Mycroft turned his head so he could watch the proceedings.

Sherlock had never felt so good. Used in both ends at once. The DCI was blocking his view to his brother, but he just knew the older sub couldn't stay facing away. He had never felt so good… so used. He just hoped John was proud of him, that would make the fact the sound in his cock was becoming incredibly uncomfortable.

As if John had heard his boy's innermost thoughts, he started praising him. “God, you gorgeous, perfect thing. Look how you're taking my cock. Look how you're taking Greg's. You're so good for me, for u-u-us.” John's words stuttered as he approached climax.

Sherlock hung completely limp, not even shifting his arms where they were tied as both Doms pulled out having climaxed at practically the same time. The detective's eyes fluttered shut and his head fell forward.

John, despite the languor that threatened, ran his hands over his boy's body, soothing him for a few moments before lowering him back to the ground. It was then that the blond Dom noticed Mycroft watching them blatantly - the sub had, despite the gag and cuffs he was wearing, completely forgotten himself. “Did you enjoy the show, Mycroft?”

The government officials' eyes opened wide, scared.

As John began to unwind his dopy sub Greg made his way towards his own. He removed the gag. “Well?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

Greg barked a laugh. “I don't think sorry is going to cut it this time, do you, boy?”

Mycroft swallowed hard. “No, sir.”

John had completely unwrapped the detective, leaving the faintest rope marks over the pale yet blushed skin.

It was a strange feeling that came over Sherlock. He still felt floaty, but curiosity clawed at the edges of his awareness. He wanted to know what was happening between Greg and Mycroft, but when John's fingers started carding through his curls, his eyes fell shut without his consent.

Greg held his boy's face in his hands and made him look him in the eyes. “Tell me, pet, what would you do to me if our positions were reversed?”

Mycroft squirmed without breaking away from his Dom's grasp. “I-” His eyes darted over to the implements that could be used for more extreme punishment. “You know, sir. It's what led to me being on my knees.”

Greg gave him a stern look. “Say it, boy.”

“A ball crusher, sir. I would use one of them for such blatant disobedience.”

“Well, it's a good job it's late then isn't it?”

Mycroft looked up in surprise.

“Oh, you'll be punished for the misbehaviour and you will talk me through it. But not tonight.”

That was almost worse, Mycroft would have time to dread what was coming.

Greg, unfastened the cuffs from about his pet's wrists. “Let's take a shower and think about getting some rest.”

Mycroft looked up and saw Sherlock completely wiped out. He was standing up, but was slouched forward into John's waiting arms, his chin on his shoulder.

Mycroft looked up at Greg, suddenly feeling completely wrung out. It had been an eventful day. To his horror, he felt tears welling up in his eyes. “Gregory...”

The DCI bent and lifted Mycroft in his arms, holding him close to his chest. “I know, babe. I know exactly how you feel. It's overwhelming. I'm going to take care of you. Just close your eyes and let me do everything.”

Mycroft did just that, letting his mind go blank and letting himself be cared for. It was a new experience for him, one that he would cherish for the rest of his life.


	4. What's in a Name?

Greg had left Mycroft to sleep in, something the elder Holmes rarely did, knowing the previous day had been one of emotional upheaval for them all. He wandered into the kitchen to make coffee and was surprised to see Sherlock there, already making it. “Good morning,” the DCI said groggily.

“Morning, Gavin.” Sherlock turned the coffee maker on and stared at it, willing it to brew faster. He wanted to surprise John with a cup.

Greg rolled his eyes at the name. “Make four cups,” he ordered.

He expected Sherlock to argue or glare or say something about only obeying orders in the playroom, but he nodded. “Of course.”

The DCI was more than surprised, maybe John's whole 24/7 thing really did work with the detective.

Sherlock glanced at Lestrade. The DCI clearly liked his coffee black. When it was ready, he poured the first cup and sat it in front of Lestrade. “Gavin – How is Myc doing? He hasn't – Has he changed his mind about me? It's just, he might regret what happened.”

Greg resisted the urge to yell that his name was Greg. His young friend looked far too vulnerable as he sat and stared into his own mug of coffee. “He's asleep right now, but I promise you, he has no regrets.”

“How do you know that if he's asleep?”

“You need to learn some trust, Sherlock, not just with me, but him as well. He's fine. The simple fact that he's still asleep proves that.”

“Right. Well… I'm going to take this up to John.”

Greg watched him go, smiling to himself. He stood and grabbed the coffee Sherlock had made for Mycroft.

Up in their room, Greg sat his boyfriend's coffee down on the bedside table and slipped back between the sheets.

Mycroft sniffed and stretched, cracking his eyes open to look for Greg. When he saw him, he smiled languidly.

“Good morning, sunshine.” The DCI leaned over and dropped a kiss to Mycroft's cheek.

“What time is it?”

“It doesn't matter,” the DCI responded.

“No, I guess it doesn't.”

He handed the older man his coffee. “Your brother made it, but don't worry, it isn't poisoned. I watched.”

Mycroft sipped his coffee, closing his eyes to savour the taste, then he set his cup back down. He shifted in the bed and wrapped himself around Greg. “Thank you for yesterday. I'm still amazed that you understand about me and 'Lock.”

The DCI ran his hand over Mycroft's back. “Hmm, it's a bit unusual, but I don't see how any harm can come of it.”

Mycroft rolled back and stared at the ceiling. “Unusual isn't the word.”

“He's your brother, Myc, not a monster. It's not like you or he is going to get pregnant is it?”

Mycroft laughed. “Now that would be weird.”

Greg chuckled. “God, I remember when my ex was pregnant. Her moods were all over the place. Sherlock's bad enough as it is. Can you just imagine?”

“Please,” Mycroft shuddered dramatically, “he'd be even more impossible. We'd have to lock him up for his own protection.”

“Speaking of locking someone up, how are you feeling this morning?” Greg nodded his head towards his pet's crotch and his confined cock. He lifted the sheets and peered down at his now twitching length, Greg grinned, but Mycroft refused to do anything but stare at the ceiling. “Ah, my boy sulking now, is he?”

Still refusing to rise to the bait, Mycroft sat up and drank more of his coffee.

Greg climbed out of bed. “I'm getting a shower, pet. Do be a dear while I'm gone and fetch us some breakfast. Don't let your brother make it though. I want something besides waffles.”

“But-”

“Don't start an argument, babe,” Greg called from the ensuite door. “You can't possibly win.”

***

“Where the hell have you been?” John growled.

“To get you coffee, sir. It was meant to be a surprise.”

“Oh,” the doctor said, feeling a bit guilty. “Thanks for that, babe. It was actually quite thoughtful.”

Sherlock smiled, careful not to let it become a smirk. “Giles is already up. I bumped into him in the kitchen. He said Mycroft was still asleep.”

“Giles? You moron, how many years have you known him?”

The detective shrugged handing him his mug. “A few years. Giles or Gavin? What does it matter?”

“It's a lot more than a few years, 'Lock.”

Sherlock sniffed. He couldn't be bothered to remember such trivialities as how long he'd been working with the Yard. How long he had known John, that was a completely different matter. That, he could remember to the second.

“324003549.”

John looked up, “What?”

“How many seconds I've known you. Except it's now 324003554.”

“That was amazing,” John breathed, completely thrown out of Dom mode momentarily.

Now Sherlock did smirk, his self-satisfaction very evident.

“Come here, gorgeous.” John reached up and grabbed the detective's coffee, he dumped it on the side and pulled him down into his lap.

Sherlock tipped his head back for a kiss and wasn't disappointed. When the kiss broke, John slid his lips along his boy's jawline then nipped his way down Sherlock's long neck. The doctor grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his boy's head.

“How are you doing? After yesterday I mean?”

The detective struggled momentarily, but it was just for show. “I'm good, John, Sir.” He bit his lower lip thoughtfully. “Do you think Mycroft's changed his mind?”

“Of course not. Let's not get all angsty over it, please, babe.”

“It's just-” The detective let out a long sigh. “All right. Glen said Myc was fine with it, too.”

John tightened his grip on Sherlock's wrists. “It's Greg, you arse.”

The detective frowned. “Why does he keep changing it?” He questioned. “I mean, isn't there some law thing that stops people from doing that?”

John dropped his head, resting his forehead against his boy's chest, and started laughing. “He doesn't change it, you git. You've got to be doing this on purpose.”

Sherlock raised up as best he could and looked at the top of John's head in puzzlement. “Doing what?”

John just kissed him, harsh and fast, until the door was kicked in. It was Greg.

“John, come on, I can't wait to play with mine.”

The doctor transferred his grip on Sherlock from using both hands for just one and held his finger up to say one moment. “Tell the nice man we'll come out to play soon enough. And use his name, pet.”

Sherlock turned his head as best he could towards Lestrade. “We'll be there shortly, Graham.”

“Jesus!” Greg rolled his eyes. “Do something about him, will you John? If you don't, I may have to.”

The doctor started giggling despite himself. “Sure thing, Graham.”

“See! See, I do know his name!”

“Playroom. 5 minutes!” Greg yelled.

“Hold on, Graham, where's my brother?!” Sherlock called after him.

“He's tied up right now,” came the distant response.

The detective looked up at his Dom. “Why do we enjoy this so much?”

“I don't know. You might as well ask why I love you.” John relaxed his grip on Sherlock's wrists. “Off with you, boy. Get those teeth brushed and get down to the playroom before Greg gets antsy.”

“Yes, sir.” Sherlock paused halfway off the bed. “Who?”

“Go!”

Still confused, Sherlock wandered into the ensuite, throwing his pyjama bottoms on the floor as he went.

“Stop staring at my arse, sir!”

“It's a damned pretty arse and it belongs to me, just like the rest of you,” John called out.

Sherlock brushed his teeth, wiggling his bum every now and then just for fun. John enjoyed the show, slipping on his dressing gown as he watched. When he was done, he moved back into the main part of their room.

“Why are you still here?” John asked.

“Because-”

“I don't want excuses, boy, I want you in the playroom.”

The detective raised an eyebrow. “Normal life is boring now,” he stated on his way out.

“So nothing's changed, then,” John quipped. Their lives together had never been normal, not from the moment Sherlock had dragged him over the rooftops of London.

Down in the playroom, Sherlock found Mycroft tied up, just as Lestrade had indicated he was. The DCI was sat with a heavy object in his hand. It could only be the ball crusher he had mentioned the night before.

The detective decided to be very, very good, lest the DCI suggest using one on him. “Where do you want me, Graham, sir?”

“I want you where you'll stop pushing your luck.”

“Sir?”

“You're going to be nicely tied up whilst we feed you breakfast.”

“Huh?” Sherlock's usual intelligence seemed adrift.

“Kneel, boy!”

Sherlock dropped immediately, his eyes flickering to where his brother had his arms tied to the St Andrews cross, but his feet free, then he dropped his head.

“Hands up!” The DCI ordered getting to his feet.

Sherlock's eyes widened a bit and he wondered how Lestrade would look in a police uniform. He decided he'd look quite striking. Maybe he'd bring it up later. The detective immediately brought his hands up as ordered and Greg grabbed his wrists, pulling them around behind him, he cuffed them together.

“This is going to be fun,” Greg noted.

John appeared at the door. “Can I play?”

Greg glanced up at the doctor. “I rather expected you would.” He looked back at Sherlock. “He's been rather cheeky today, not that you helped earlier calling me Graham.”

John walked over and fetched a pair of nipple clamps. “I was just having a bit of fun with it.” Casually, he clipped the clamps on his boy, one nipple at a time. Sherlock bit his lip to keep from shouting out.

“So what's the plan, mate?”

“I thought we could feed our little pets while they're all tied up.”

“Why haven't I ever thought of that?” John mused aloud. “I wondered why I smelled toast.”

“And jam.” Greg moved a small table around by Mycroft, then he set some food on it. “Oh, and boiled eggs. I thought that would be less messy.”

The doctor walked over to see what else was on offer. “No waffles,” he observed.

“That boy of yours need to eat something else on occasion.”

“I'm the one that's supposed to worry about that. Doctor, remember?

“Dom, remember?” Greg countered.

“Don't I get to choose what I eat?” Sherlock asked.

Both Doms turned around at that.

“Sherlock,” John asked, “you did well yesterday, are you really asking for punishment already? I mean, it's inevitable that it's coming today, but you've been out of bed less than an hour.”

Sherlock's mouth opened with a pop, but he closed it quickly. He was being good, he reminded himself.

When Greg brought the toast to his pet's lips, Mycroft obediently took a bite. He knew he was in for it for blatantly looking at his brother the night before and he didn't want to make things worse.

“Aren't they so adorable when they're obedient?” The doctor asked, cupping Mycroft's cheek. He was pleasantly surprised his boy hadn't opened his mouth to complain. When he turned back around Sherlock's head was submissively low, but his upper teeth biting his lip was clear. “Pet?” John asked, crossing over to him. “Is there a problem?”

“No, sir.” Sherlock's voice had been steady, but his head had jerked in a nod.

“I don't think you're telling me the truth, boy.”

The detective's head jolted up at that. He was fine, wasn't he? Of course, he was. Sherlock Holmes did not get jealous. Why had that word come to mind, jealous? “I don't – I'm not-” His words fell off into silence.

The doctor stepped up in front of him, staring down at him in an almost threatening way. “Not what, boy?”

It took a moment while he gathered his thoughts. “Not hungry,” he finished.

John shook his head, certain there was something more going on, but not sure what. “You'll be eating just the same. With what I have planned for you, you'll need the energy.”

The sub jerked his head in a nod, he hadn't intended on not eating.

John pinched his ear between finger and thumb. He tugged him over beside the two crosses to the one with Mycroft on it and deposited him beside it where there was an iron ring in the floor. He chained the cuffs to it and then the nipple clamps, making the chain run between his legs. “Hope you're comfy, boy.”

Sherlock bit his tongue and didn't say anything. He didn't even offer an objection when his Dom offered him an egg, just took a bite.

Running his fingers through his boy's hair, John bent down and whispered in his ear, “You're the one I love, pet. Everything else is just a game. Remember that.”

Sherlock was back to biting his lip. John leant forward and nudged his teeth out of the way, then nibbled his lip on his own. “Speak, boy.”

“I know, sir. I know.”

“It's my bed you'll be getting into tonight, nobody else's.”

The detective nodded, feeling suddenly silly for his earlier reaction. “Yes, sir.” He returned John's kiss. “Thank you,” he whispered so only his Dom could hear him.

“Any time, pet,” John whispered back. “Now eat.” He pushed a bite of toast between his boy's lips.

Now that his momentary worry had evaporated, he realised how tricky his situation was. His nipples were throbbing and his cock in its prison was fighting for freedom, the sound carefully keeping everything inside him. He stared down at the thing and suddenly realised he really had to pee. Sherlock started shifting, trying to forget about his full bladder.

“You look uncomfortable, pet. Problem?” John wondered if his boy would admit his problem.

“I've got to pee, sir.”

John raised a surprised eyebrow. “Fine.”

The detective looked up, surprised. He couldn't believe his Dom was going to take the sound out.

“Don't get too excited. This sound is different from the ones you've seen before. It's hollow so you can wear it all the time.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, then opened it again. “But, sir-”

“No buts, except yours,” he reached round and squeezed Sherlock's arse. The sub flinched making the clamps jerk on the ring behind him.

John left his sight for one moment before returning with a urinal bottle.

“I'm not doing it here,” Sherlock growled.

“Well, I'm not untying you.” He set about removing the tip of the sound to allow the younger man to pee.

Sherlock blushed furiously, not wanting to give in, but desperate enough to do it. As soon as his bladder had been emptied, he felt better.

John whisked the urinal away. When he returned, the doctor carefully cleaned his pet's cock and replaced the tip of the sound. Sherlock pouted down, he had been so close to getting it removed, but not close enough.

The whole time Mycroft had been struggling, his attention was caught between his Dom, gorgeous as he was, and his little brother.

Greg, of course, noticed. He took his boy's chin in his hand and turned Mycroft's face to look at him. “You just can't stop looking can you, boy?”

“Gregory, I-”

Sherlock frowned. “Why do you call him that, Myc? His name is Graham.”

Mycroft ignored him, looking straight at his Dom. He tugged his wrists slightly, but knew there was no way out, he'd tied enough subs up in them to know that.

“We have a serious problem with you looking at things you shouldn't be looking at, don't we? And I don't think I blindfold will do the trick, that wouldn't be a lesson learned because as soon as it comes off you'll be looking again.”

Mycroft closed his eyes, dreading what he knew was coming. They popped open again when he felt his bollocks being lifted and placed into the ball crusher.

Greg watched his sub's face closely as he tightened the device. He stopped at the first grimace of pain on Mycroft's face. “Keep your eyes to yourself, boy, or I'll have to tighten this thing.” He leant in close, “Or I'll just tighten it anyway, if you annoy me, that is, so what are you going to do?”

“Keep my eyes to myself, sir.”

“And what else.”

“Do whatever you want, sir.”

“Why?”

The government official's eyes closed again. “Because I'm your boy, sir.”

“Good answer, pet.” The DCI kissed Mycroft on the lips, causing a shiver to pass through the sub. “You really like this, don't you?”

He really did. Mycroft let out a soft moan at the realisation. “Yes, sir.”

“I like it too, maybe not all the time, but… anyway.” He took a step back and gripped the ball crusher, “They look ever so pretty all tied up like that, boy.”

Sherlock, by turning his head slightly was at eye level with the torture Mycroft was experiencing.

John slapped him lightly on the cheek. “What do you think you're doing now?” He asked, in a low voice.

“Sorry, sir. I was watching Graham work, sir. I know I shouldn't have.”

“Oh, for God's sake.” Greg left Mycroft and strode to stand beside John. “Can't you do something about him?”

The doctor considered. “I suppose I should. Any suggestions?”

Sherlock looked up, frowning. “Do what about me?”

“Shut it, boy,” the blond Dom growled.

“May I have a little fun with him?” Greg asked.

John sketched a mock bow. “Be my guest.”

“Are you sure? I might want to take the cage off of him.” He gave Sherlock a hard look. “Then again, I might not. It depends on how well he learns his lesson.”

“What lesson?!” Sherlock kicked his foot, which caused the chain to pull on his nipple clamps.

The DCI grabbed him by the chin and tilted his head up to meet his gaze. “My name, boy.”

Sherlock frowned, but didn't speak, he wasn't suicidal.

“I believe I asked my name. Tell me what you've been calling me.” Greg yanked hard on the chain that was connected to the nipple clamps. “Tell me,” he growled.

“G-Graham,” he stuttered, not daring to look up. “Graham, sir.”

The two Doms shared glances.

“Definitely a lesson here,” John said, bumping Greg on the shoulder.

Greg gave the chain another tug. “You're sure it's okay if I play with him? Any limits?”

“Oh, it's more than fine with me, so long as I get to watch. And as for limits, I'll be right here. I'll stop you if you hit one.”

“This will be fun.” Greg grinned. “I wish I could have done this years ago.”

Sherlock tensed.

“I don't know what you're so scared of. This will be fun.”

“Yes, sir,” he whispered.

Greg reached down and unfastened the chains that were holding Sherlock in place. “Crawl over and lay over the bench, boy.”

The younger man fixed his eyes on the floor and did as he was told- well, tried to.

“He isn't the best at crawling with his hands cuffed, mate,” John laughed.

The DCI joined him in his giggling. “Oh, I know, I was just waiting to see if he would complain.”

“Turn around, boy.”

Sherlock shuffled around on his knees, presenting his back and cuffed wrists to the DCI.

“Now, you're going to be a good boy for me when I let you go,” Greg teased.

The sub nodded and wriggled his wrists when he let him go.

Mycroft was watching his brother's arse, trying to be subtle, but not succeeding.

“I suppose it's up to me to keep you in line,” the doctor said, stepping forward. He bent and got a look at the wicked device that imprisoned Mycroft's bollocks. “Better you than me,” he said with a crooked smile. Turning around, he watched as Greg ran his hands over Sherlock's back and arse.

“Shall we watch them, Boy?” John asked the older sub. At Mycroft's nod the doctor grinned evilly. “But then what will I do? You don't want me to be bored, do you, boy?”

Mycroft's eyes widened at that. They widened even further when John pinched one of his nipples. The doctor turned to watch the goings on, playing with the hard little nub idly.

“What if I was to…” he glanced down and realised he was conveniently on the portable cross, he kicked the brakes off and spun him around. Leaning back against the wall, he could face both Holmes boys.

“John,” Mycroft began to object, but was cut off.

“You need to re-think what you just said, Boy, and there had better not have been an objection coming.”

“Sir.”

“That's better,” John clapped sarcastically. He fiddled with the ball crusher, not twisting it just wiggling it until Mycroft hissed in a sharp breath.

Sherlock heard his brother's hiss and started to turn his head, but Greg chose that moment to push a single finger into his hole. He let out a low whine at the burn, but didn't object as he rather enjoyed it.

“I hope you don't mind the lack of lube, boy, but I think you can take a finger or two without it.” Greg twisted his finger inside the sub and wriggled it around a bit.

Sherlock bit his lip, it was becoming a regular thing these days. His cheek felt cold, pressed against the table and even more so when he pushed down harder at the DCI's ministrations. Greg stopped what he was doing. “So, what's my name, boy?”

Sherlock thought hard, saying the first name that came to mind, “Geoff.”

Greg inserted a second finger, working his way in deep in search of that special bundle of nerves. “You tried that name recently, brat, and it was wrong then.”

The younger man's body spasmed when the DCI finally located his prostate.

“I could do this all day, tease you like this. How's that cock of yours feeling? I bet it wants out of that little cage.” Greg stroked over the sub's prostate again and again. “Name?”

“Graham,” he tried.

“Wrong again, boy!”

“That's not my fault!”

“Excuse me?”

“You change it before I can-” Greg's free hand landed hard on his arse and kept landing until Sherlock muttered out, “Sorry, sir.”

“Now, where were we?” Greg ran his finger along Sherlock's perineum and down to fondle his balls. He wrapped his hand around the sub's caged cock. “I bet you want this off, don't you?”

Sherlock nodded, trying his hardest not to get distracted by his brother's low whimpering.

“If you're not going to use your words, boy, I'll take them away from you.”

“Yes, sir. I want it off, sir.”

“Good boy. So, convince me to take it off. Ask nicely and use my name.”

“Please, Gordon, will you take the cage off?”

“Nope.” Greg gave Sherlock's bollocks a squeeze, causing the younger man to gasp. “I think that deserves a few moments of teasing.” He slid his fingers inside the detective and simply enjoyed making the man squirm. “For every wrong attempt I'm going to tease you relentlessly for 10 minutes. So that's half an hour already. John, give me a hand?”

The doctor looked up from where he was fondling the crusher on the British Government's balls. “Sure. What do you want to do? Hello, boy,” he said, giving his arse a slap.

“To tie him down.”

With a nod, the doctor fetched leather wrist and ankle cuffs and a length of black rope. Together, the two Doms collared, cuffed and tied Sherlock to the bench. His legs were spread wide and his hands were tied out to either side of him. John crouched down in front of the prone man, “Hope you don't mind me playing with your brother. He does enjoy watching you, shame he can't right now.”

Sherlock bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making an ill-advised comment, but it did nothing to stop the moan he made when Lestrade breeched him with his fingers once again.

John stood and stepped back so he could see both of the subs and contemplated what to do next. “Ah, our two little pets.”

Greg grinned at him.

“Any ideas when you want to go back to subbing?” John asked.

The DCI paused in what he was doing and gave John a knowing look. “You're hoping to get your hands on me, Doctor Watson, but that's up to these two boys. I don't think they're in any condition to be making that kind of decision right now.” He popped Sherlock's bum with his free hand. “We might discuss it later, but then we might not,” he pushed his finger back into Sherlock's hole along with the second. “Don't clench, boy, you're mine to play with, to do what I say, not what you want.”

“Yes, Gordon, sir.”

“Nice try, but wrong. That's another ten minutes.” The DCI pulled his fingers out and shook his hand. “Sorry, cramp.” He went over and picked up a vibrator, bringing it back to show to Sherlock.

“You deliberately said Gordon twice… you are going to regret that, brat.” He pressed the vibrator in, this time using lube, and Sherlock moaned, watching John walk back to his brother.

For some reason Mycroft's dusky nipples seemed to be calling to John. “Do you have a snakebite kit around here somewhere?” He tweaked one of the sub's nipples. “Of course you do. Where?”

The government official didn't answer.

“Oh, Mycroft, I really wouldn't play this game with me,” he leant down and twisted the ball crusher, watching as the older man squeezed his eyes shut.

“I'm sorry, sir,” he ground out.

“Good. Now where?”

“Far corner, sir.”

John brought the kit back over and looked at the two suction cups. He placed them on Mycroft's nipples one at a time, squeezing the cups, then releasing them so that they created a nice suction. Mycroft gritted his teeth, at least they were better than any form of clamp.

Sherlock wasn't faring as well, the vibrator nuzzled right on his prostate. If the sound would have let him, Sherlock would have been dribbling precome all over the bench.

“Greg, would you give me a hand while you let Sherlock suffer for a bit?”

“Sure. What do you need?”

“Have you figured out what things make your boy beg yet, or is that something we could have some fun with?”

Greg grinned. “Let me gag yours and then we can indeed have some fun.”

Sherlock's glare withered at the sight of the hated gag. It was the fake cock one, but it allowed the Dom to remove it and leave a large ring behind.

“If you can't get my name right, you won't get another chance until the allotted time has passed. So have fun,” the DCI patted Sherlock's cheek as he buckled the gag up.

“So we have, what? Another 20 minutes or so to play with Mycroft.” John looked eager. “You know, I could get spoiled by having two toys to play with at once.”

“Yes, I could too.” Greg agreed. “What do you think? Want to try extreme sensory deprivation, then try some sensation play?”

Mycroft actually let out a low growl. Sensory deprivation to a Holmes was like taking the wheels off a car. And the two Doms knew it.

John went over and looked at the various blindfolds and earplugs and such. He grinned when he saw a pair of headphones. They were the type that generated white noise. Holding them up, he said, “We can start with these.”

Mycroft could just about see what John was holding and his growl was renewed.

“Shut it, boy,” the DCI ordered twisting the crusher tighter.

Mycroft let out a low hiss of pain. He knew the crusher could still be safely tightened even further, but he really hoped that didn't happen.

“Do you want to gag him?” John asked.

“Nope. I want to see how well he can control that mouth of his. Here.” He handed John a thick, padded blindfold. “I'll fetch the menthol.”

“No!” Mycroft yelled.

“Is that a safe word?” John asked.

“No, sir,” Mycroft's response was a lot quieter.

“Do you want to safe word?”

“No, sir,” he repeated.

“Then what shall we do with him, Greg? You had literally just said about him controlling his mouth.”

“Well, he's not doing too well with that.” Greg chuckled as he spread menthol under Mycroft's nose.

The moment the DCI stepped back, John moved in with the blindfold and slipped it in place, followed by the headphones which he turned on.

Mycroft had his eyes screwed up beneath the blindfold in an obviously failed attempt at hiding from the noise. He let out a broken whimper when one of the Doms tied his feet to the bottom of the cross or the floor, he wasn't sure which.

Greg squeezed one of the suction cups and released it from Mycroft's left nipple. He ran his fingers over the protruding nub. “Does this cross tilt? I'd like to try a bit of wax play.”

“This one doesn't,” John answered, “the moving ones never do.”

Greg sighed. “Well, it's not worth moving him.”

Sherlock, across the other side of the room let out a frustrated growl around his gag.

John snatched a flogger from the wall of impact toys and tossed it to Greg. “It sounds like Sherlock needs his arse striped.” He gave the DCI a significant look. “He loves it. Add it to the prostate stimulation and he'll fall apart.”

Greg grinned. “You should have kept your mouth shut, brat,” the older Dom said, slapping his arse as he passed him. “We were both quite content to leave you to it for the remainder of your 30 minutes:”

John grabbed another flogger and stood in front of Mycroft. He took careful aim and flicked the flogger over the sub's exposed nipple. Mycroft flinched violently, but more from the shock of it than from the pain. He thrashed around for a moment and John allowed him some time to calm again. This time he aimed for the crusher and was sure the flinch was due to the discomfort.

John bit his lip. It was really too bad about Mycroft's cock being locked up. He brought the flogger down across the front of the sub's thighs.

At the same moment, Sherlock started making distressed noises behind him. John turned and watched as the younger Holmes tried to get away from the falling strokes of the flogger. He thrashed as much as Mycroft had but he didn't get anywhere, he couldn't get anywhere.

When Sherlock's arse was a pretty array of red splotches the DCI moved to the front of him and pulled the fake cock from his mouth, just leaving the ring. “You'll suck me, and then I'll give you the chance to get my name right.”

Sherlock gave a full body shiver as Greg slid his cock through the ring gag. He didn't mind the intrusion, in fact, he welcomed it. The sub only hoped his primary Dom was watching.

John was glad he could watch without either of the Holmeses noticing. He continued to absently flick the flogger out so Mycroft didn't feel neglected, but he kept his eyes on his sub, much like how the DCI went from staring at the curls surrounding his cock to staring at his own sub.

Mycroft made a strange noise. John glanced at him, then stepped over and casually removed the other suction cup from the older sub's other nipple. He brought the flogger down on the newly exposed nub.

That's when the other Dom tangled his fingers in Sherlock's hair, holding the sub's head steady as his orgasm hit him. John thought the DCI looked gorgeous as he came in Sherlock's mouth.

“Good boy,” Greg whispered, ruffling Sherlock's curls. “You're looking at me like you want to do that in my mouth,” the DCI said louder when he'd managed to recover, if only slightly.

John ran the flogger over Mycroft's chest absently. “Um… I would be lying if I said you were wrong.”

Greg gave him a cheeky grin. Sherlock grunted.

The DCI looked down at Sherlock's debauched face. “Oh. So sorry. Was I neglecting you, boy?” He gripped the back of his head and pulled his head back. “Are you willing to try again?”

He just grunted again.

Greg unbuckled the gag and pulled it free. “Answer.”

“Yes, sir.”

“So, name?”

“G-Gareth?”

John chuckled. “It's a good thing you didn't take the vibrator out. Are you going to turn it up a notch?”

“That, John, is an excellent idea.”

“No, no, sir, please!”

Greg untied him from the table and jerked him upright. “Is there a problem here, boy?”

“Sir! No. It's Grant.” Sherlock looked at John. “It is, isn't it? Grant!”

“Boy, I believe I asked if there was a problem.”

Sherlock dropped his head to his chest, defeated. For now, at least. “No, sir. No problem.”

“Then keep your mouth shut until I give you permission to do otherwise.”

John was leaning back against the wall, a now heavily panting Mycroft, hanging next to him. “You definitely have a knack with my boy.”

“I suppose it's experience as a sub coming in handy.”

John shook his head. “No, it's more than that. You were the only one who could do anything with him before I came along.”

The DCI had moved Sherlock to a kneeling position just before his protest came, “I am here!”

Greg crouched down in front of him and gripped his chin in his hand. “You are going to regret that.”

“How can it get any worse?” Sherlock mumbled, the buzz surrounding his prostate ever-present.

“What was that?” the two Doms said in unison.

“Nothing, sirs.”

Greg frowned down at the sub. “John, did you bring any ginger? I might want to replace that vibrator.”

“No, sir! I'm sorry. Please, sir.”

“One last chance,” the DCI folded his hands across his chest, looking down at the kneeling detective.

Sherlock stared at the floor a moment. His arse felt like it was on fire and his cock was about to explode from the cage, shooting the sound out as it did.

“Greg, sir?” He offered quietly, ready for the dejection he knew was coming.

“Boy,” the DCI said, “look at me.”

Sherlock reluctantly did so.

“What did you call me?”

“Greg.” This time it was almost a whisper.

“Well, what do you know? You got it right.”

Sherlock's eyes opened wide. “Sir?” The disbelief was evident in his voice. John joined the two of them, ruffling Sherlock's curls when he did. “Good boy.” He dropped a kiss to the top of his sub's head. Sherlock got that look, the one that said he needed something. John noticed. “Need to run to you Mind Palace, pet?”

With a not too subtle shift of his hips, the detective responded, “Yes, sir.”

“Ok.” John turned off the vibrator. “Let him go just a moment, Greg.”

The DCI did so and stepped back. “What's this about?” He watched as Sherlock's gaze turned inward and his hands flickered in motion.

John shrugged. “He's storing your name, I would imagine. Maybe framing it and putting it on a wall.”

“He can actually do that?” The grey haired Dom was a little more than surprised, he always thought of Sherlock's Mind Palace as a distraction technique.

The doctor glanced between the brothers, “I bet he can too, just chooses not to.”

“Huh.” Now Greg watched Sherlock with fascination. The sub's eyelids flickered a few times, then Sherlock's gaze returned to the real world.

Almost casually, John turned the vibrator back on causing the sub to gasp. “Carry on, Greg.” John stepped out of the way and idly pinched one of Mycroft's nipples, giving it a twist.

Greg reached down and grasped Sherlock's caged length. “I indicated I would consider taking this off if you called me by name. Would you like that, boy?”

“Yes, Greg,” he responded, with a cheeky smile.

The DCI circled around him. “Don't push it, boy.”

Sherlock's lip popped out in a momentary pout, then he sucked it back in. His eyes opened wide when Greg knelt to unlock the cage.

The DCI paused before taking it off. “I know that vibrator is driving you mad, but don't even think about coming when I take this off, not until you're given permission.”

“Sir, wait.”

The older man was in the process of removing the cage. He paused again. “What?”

“If you take it off and take the sound out I will come on the spot.”

John chortled. “That's the first time I've ever heard you ask to keep one of those things on, pet.”

“Rather that, than anger you when I mess up, sir.”

Greg grabbed Sherlock's balls and gave them a sharp tug.

The sub shook his head. “I don't think even that will help, sir.”

“What do you think, John? Ice the boy or let him come? He did get my name right – eventually.”

Sherlock wanted so hard to look up and over at his Dom who was fondling his brother's balls in the crusher, tightening it up as he went. He didn't look though, no, he was good and stared at the floor.

John chuckled as he drank in Mycroft's small hisses and moans. “It's up to you Greg. It's your name he's been being a prick about.”

“I have an idea.” The DCI removed the sound from the tip of the cage and thus from Sherlock's cock, but he left the cage in place. “Let's see how much you want this thing off.”

The detective groaned, his cock felt oddly empty. “Sir, please…”

“Earn it, boy.”

“H-how?”

“Get over there and suck your brother through his cage. He won't even be aware it's about to happen.”

Sherlock drew in a sharp breath and he glanced at John. There was an approving smile playing over the doctor's lips. “That's brilliant, Greg,” John said.

“Yes, sir.” Sherlock moved over and knelt in front of his brother's bound form. He looked up as he leant forward and lapped at Mycroft's cock through the cage's openings.

Mycroft jerked in surprise, thrusting the tip of his cock through Sherlock's lips. He'd had no touch for over 5 minutes and the strain of waiting for something… anything was close to be too much.

Sherlock grinned as he teased his brother's cock through the different openings, enjoying the activity despite his own insistent need. Every now and again he bumped against the ball crusher that was squeezing Mycroft's bollocks, eliciting a hiss of pain.

“That's it, boy,” Greg urged. He reached up and grasped the edge of Mycroft's blindfold. “Shall I?” he asked, looking at John. The doctor gave a nod and Greg slipped the blindfold up onto Mycroft's forehead.

He shook his head, being able to see again, but without hearing was a really strange feeling. He looked down at his brother, whose head was low over his cock, sucking it like it was a lolly. He struggled trying to get his hands free, knowing that was never going to happen.

Sherlock's teeth clattered over the metal of the cage, the low heat at his groin growing to something almost unbearable.

Greg went down on his knees behind him and wrapped his arms around the detective. He let his hands wander over Sherlock's torso, then down over the sub's caged cock where he lingered for several long moments. “What do you think John?”

“I think he deserves it.”

Mycroft couldn't hear what was being said and he couldn't look between the Doms to lip read either. It was fairly obvious, though, with how Sherlock hummed around him in pleasure.

“I don't think your boy does, though,” John noted.

Sherlock choked down a laugh. He had no desire to be a Dom, but he found it interesting this- well, topping from the bottom wasn't exactly the right term- whatever he decided to call it, getting Mycroft wound up and leaving him wanting was fun. Getting him in trouble had been fun as well, even if the detective had gotten into trouble himself for it.

Suddenly, Sherlock's thoughts were derailed when Greg removed the cage from his cock. The detective almost choked himself on his brother's caged length as his orgasm swept through him.

Mycroft looked down at him, panting hard, it was clear he was frustrated. “Sir, sirs, please…” It was weird talking, but not being able to hear himself.

“Nope.” It was clear just from watching Greg what he had said.

Mycroft dropped his head back to the cross with a thunk, causing his brother to look back up at him. Somehow, Sherlock had managed to keep his mouth stretched around the caged cock as he came.

Greg ran his fingers through the younger sub's curls, then pulled him back off of Mycroft's cock. “Good job, boy.”

He reached up and pushed Mycroft's headphones off his head, leaving them around his neck.

“Have you had enough of sucking metal, babe?” John asked from the chair he'd fallen into.

The detective looked over and nodded.

“Come here then.”

Sherlock shuffled across the floor on his knees and immediately rested his head against the Dom's thighs.

John petted his boy's sweat dampened curls. “Do you have any idea how lovely you are? And, my God, watching you suck Mycroft-”

Sherlock let out a little happy puff of air.

“Yes, babe?”

“You liked me sucking Greg too, and watching him come, sir.” The sub glanced up at him, a smile on his lips.

“You're right. I did.”

Sherlock's eyes drifted shut, despite the time of the day, and John let him - he wasn't surprised his boy was knackered.

Greg had pulled up a chair and sat in it facing his boy. He reached out and hefted the ball crusher in his hand. “Do you remember using one of these on me, boy?”

“Yes, sir.” Mycroft looked down at the DCI with dread.

“As I recall, you tightened it as far as you could without causing permanent damage. Tell me this: can I tighten this safely?”

Mycroft briefly debated lying, but he dreaded the consequences if he were caught in a deception. “Yes, sir.”

Greg's eyes lit up and he gave the device a little twist, tightening it. “Good. Tell me when I need to stop. I don't want to damage you.”

Mycroft closed his eyes, at least until Greg slapped him.

“If you're not paying attention how will you know if I'm doing it up too tightly?”

Mycroft swallowed the lump in his throat. “I won't, sir.”

Sherlock turned his head lazily on his Dom's lap to watch the proceedings. John didn't object, just kept combing his fingers through dark curls as he watched the strain build in the muscles of Mycroft's jawline.

“I can't-” Mycroft broke off, rocking his head side to side. “Oh, God.”

Greg kept tightening the crusher slowly, watching his boy closely. Finally Mycroft broke, calling out his safe word through his ragged breaths. “No more. Any more would be dangerous,” he managed.

“Can you take this for me?” Greg asked. “Just for, say, 5 minutes?”

Mycroft managed to nod.

“What if I was to leave it longer? I know it wouldn't damage you, but what would you do?”

Mycroft honestly didn't know. “I'll try to take it, if that's what you want, sir, but I don't know if I can.”

Greg ran his hand along the outside of Mycroft's thighs. “That's an honest answer.” He grinned wickedly. “Why don't we see when you break?”

Mycroft whimpered as the DCI leant back in his chair.

John, as much as he wanted to focus his attention on the bound sub, didn't want to take his eyes off Sherlock, he was very quiet. The detective's breath sped up a bit and his body shifted from languid to tense. Sherlock's gaze flicked over his brother from head to foot. There were beads of perspiration standing out on Mycroft's forehead and his chest glistened with sweat. Sherlock found himself feeling an odd sense of pride in his brother's performance and wondered if he would do as well in his position. He was not about to bring that up though. He'd had enough for one morning, the session would probably keep him drained for the rest of the day.

Almost 15 minutes had passed before Mycroft's resolve broke and he used his safe word. Greg leapt from his chair and started unscrewing the ball crusher. As the pressure was released, Mycroft banged his head repeatedly against the cross and swore a string of profanity. As the crusher was removed completely, he let out a long hiss, his head pressing hard into the cross behind him.

Greg quickly went about removing the cuffs from the wood and Mycroft almost keeled over, collapsing into the DCI's waiting arms. Scooping his sub up, Greg turned to Sherlock and John. “Is there a hot tub in this place?”

The younger Holmes lifted his head from John's lap. “Yes, sir. On the first floor.”

“Thanks. Mycroft's going to be feeling it, I know that from experience. Soaking might help.”

“We'll leave you to it,” John said, ruffling his boy's curls.

The pair watched Greg walk out, Mycroft's arms wrapped around his neck.

Sherlock looked up at John with wide, loving eyes and wrapped his arms around his Dom's legs with a purr of contentment. “You're perfect, sir.”

“John.”

“Huh?”

“John.”

“What did I do?”

“Nothing. You're perfect too. Let's just let it be me and you, for a while at least.”

“Instead of our alter egos.”

The doctor laughed. “Yeah.”

Sherlock raised his head. “Can we do that in bed, while I take a nap?”

John chuckled. “You? Sleep in the middle of the day?” He bent forward and kissed Sherlock on the forehead. “Sure, babe. Whatever you want. You really did well today.”

John stood and tugged Sherlock's hand in the direction of the door, but he refused to move. “What are you doing?”

The detective pouted. “My brother got carried.”

“Oh, for goodness-” John scooped his boy up in his arms and carried him, bridal fashion, but only as far as the stairs. He lowered Sherlock to his feet. “I'm not going to risk a couple of broken necks.”

Sherlock tilted his head to the side. “Your shoulder is bothering you.” Without another word, he bent and lifted John over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

“Ok, then,” John whispered, smacking Sherlock's naked bum on every other step.

Upstairs, Sherlock dropped John to their bed, then he climbed in next to him. “Stop wiggling, John,” the detective admonished as John tried to scoot to the other side of the bed. “I want to snuggle with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Now, this breaks back into the primary series once again: [The British Government and the DI](http://archiveofourown.org/series/264478) and [The Detective and the Doctor](http://archiveofourown.org/series/354065).


End file.
